


The Aftermath

by wisdomblackorchid2_0



Category: Avengers, Black Widow (Comics), Captain America (Movies), Natasha Romanoff - Fandom, Romanogers - Fandom, Steve Rogers - Fandom, Stevenat - Fandom, buckynat - Fandom
Genre: Avengers Family, Comfort, Gen, Grief/Mourning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-03
Updated: 2020-04-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:28:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 22,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23460229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wisdomblackorchid2_0/pseuds/wisdomblackorchid2_0
Summary: Set after Endgame. Natasha's family continue to struggle with her death. Her absence has created a gigantic hole in their lives. A look into how Natasha's closest friends deal with their individual and collective loss and how she continues to fight to keep her family together even in death.
Relationships: Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov, James "Bucky" Barnes/Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanov
Comments: 4
Kudos: 31





	1. The Bartons

**Author's Note:**

> I just felt I had to do something for Natasha especially after not getting at least a 20 seconder funeral scene in the movie. Also, Natasha's been a huge part of some of the characters' lives and I'm curious how they would react like Fury who's been her boss for a long time, Sam who became one of the few people she trusted. I'm sure Sam would be devastated by her death. Also, I'm a fan of Natasha and Bucky's pasts and I'm a bit sad that it didn't make it to the MCU, so this is my take on that. Hope you like it.
> 
> I wrote this a while back but only had the courage to post it here. :)

The world was never the same again. Despite bringing back half of the population and reuniting them with their families, it was evident that resuming their lives, picking up where they left things off wouldn’t be easy. The five years between them changed them in more ways than one. Reunions were more awkward as once newborn babies saw strangers instead of their parents, lovers came home and devastated to discover that their other halves have moved on, and friends realized that they didn’t have anything in common anymore.

Degrees of difficulty differed per person, per family and nothing could be compared to the loss the Avengers suffered. And nothing could be compared to the grief experienced by those directly affected by those deaths. 

Like most families, the Bartons were never the same again. The once noisy, crazy, and lively household fell into silence. Clint tried to contain his pain and guilt to shield his children and wife. But it was undeniable that his best friend’s death was a huge blow to every member of the Barton family. Clint was not the only one who lost. Laura lost a sister, Cooper, Lila, and Nate lost their aunt. The only consolation afforded to Clint was at least he had a family to share the grief with.

He stayed at his farmhouse and refused any visitors for the first several months. Even Steve and Fury. He was afraid seeing them would further remind him of what he lost and could never have back. He wasn’t mad at them but he couldn’t help but feel angry at the thought that being an Avenger was the reason he lost his best friend. Natasha was a real Avenger right until the end, maybe even more than anyone else beside Tony, and he somehow questioned if it was necessary and worthy for her duty to demand for her life. He was proud of Natasha, no doubt about that and since her death, he could never sleep at night anymore, plagued by the belief that he didn’t deserve Natasha’s sacrifice.

So Clint focused on his family, spending every minute of his waking life with them, making up for the time they had lost. A part of him was grateful that his family was snapped away and not him, because he would hate to miss five years of his children’s lives. Little Nathaniel was still the same and he couldn’t help but envy his son’s ignorance to everything that happened. Growing up, Nathaniel would probably have vague to absolutely no idea who Natasha was and Clint sometimes wished he could have that bliss too. 

“You don’t really want that”, Laura said with a smile as they watch Nathaniel chase the chickens. “You’re just saying that because you’re still hurting, we all are. But that would be a dishonor to her.”

Clint looked at Laura, realizing the truth in her words. He somehow felt ashamed for wanting, even just for a second, to escape his guilt. Trying to forget the pain was the same as forgetting Natasha’s selflessness and dismissing the redemption she found in the end.

“We need to keep her alive, honey,” Laura continued. “Not everyone would know what she has done for the world, and I think she’s fine with that, but as one of the few people who mattered to her, we owe it to her, to remember, to keep remembering her, to keep her with us even as we move on.”

Clint tried to hold back his tears. Laura reached for his hand and he broke down. Good thing Cooper and Lila were at school because he wouldn’t risk crying like that when there was a huge chance his children would see him so broken. Laura smiled at him, somehow relieved to see him acknowledge his pain and just grieve. He cried for a whole good minute as Laura lovingly rubbed his back. Clint wished he could cry like that every minute of every day but knew Natasha wouldn’t like that. So a once in a while good old cry was good enough for him. He took a big breath and wiped his eyes. He leaned back on his chair and and let out a long, deep sigh of relief. He glanced at his son, who was now seated on the ground, surrounded by the chickens as he held out his hands full of feeds. A smile finally lined Clint’s lips.

“Nat,” he said softly, eyes still on his son. “We’ll call him Nat from now on.”

It was Laura’s turn to tear up. She squeezed Clint’s hand in agreement as her smile grew even wider. 

“I mean, it sounds alright, right? Nat … Nat --- thaniel, right?”

“It sounds perfect,” Laura said softly as she smiled and cried at the same time.

It was a bit uncomfortable at first, the way the name would ring around the house whenever they had to call for the youngest Barton. Clint felt daggers were plunged in his heart every time he would utter the name. He knew it wouldn’t get easier but he had to do it. The constant pain would be in honor of Natasha, the reason why he had his family back, why the world got its half back. And it would be a constant reminder of the kind of man he had to strive for to be deserving of this second chance in life. 

Good thing, Cooper and Lila found the idea great, especially Lila. All this time Lila was afraid of one thing, that she would eventually outgrow her Aunt Natasha, that she would just recede in her memory and gradually be buried under new ones. Clint couldn’t help but get teary-eyed at his daughter. 

“She sure is your daughter,” Laura joked but made Lila proud of herself.

Wanda thought it was a good call too. It took a little getting used to it but she got a different sense of happiness when she saw Little Nat running to her on his short wobbly legs and letting out huge chuckle the first time she called him Nat. 

“I like it” Wanda said. “He’s the future, and through him, Nat would still be a part of that.”

After a few weeks after the battle, Wanda stayed with the Barton’s but eventually felt she needed to do something, that she had to be a part of something. She would forever grieve her losses but she believed that she had to make something out of herself, out of the second life she was given. 

So she left the farmhouse and joined Pepper, Rhodey, Fury, Maria and the others in restoring what they can. Even though it wasn’t clear at the beginning what they should or would be doing, Wanda joined in their meetings and contributed whenever she could. When things eventually settled down, with Fury winning the argument that they needed to reinstate some sort of a ‘response team’, she didn’t hesitate to sign up. Nobody had the courage to use the word ‘Avengers’ again but everyone got the idea. 

Wanda talked Clint into joining Fury’s ‘response team’ but she understood when he declined. So, she spent most of her time in New York and would squeeze in a weekend of respite at the Barton’s whenever time permits. Wanda discovered that keeping herself busy was making her both sad and happy at the same time. Being part of Fury’s ‘response team’ felt familiar, making her miss the old days even more. But she felt a distinct kind of pride that she would be a part of a continuing legacy and she was privileged that she found a purpose through Natasha’s work.

“She would be proud,” Laura told her one time she came over to spend the weekend at the farmhouse.

“I’m not as strong as her,” Wanda objected.

“Nobody is. She’s the Black Widow after all,” Laura continued. “But she found her strength, and so will you.”

Wanda smiled. She looked around the house and found it unchanged. Laura read her mind.

“Clint loved to redecorate and renovate, moving one part of the house to another, but now, he doesn’t want to change anything,” Laura said, a tinge of sadness in her voice.

“You can’t blame him.”

Laura shakes her head. Then, “But things have to change, they will change whether he approves of it or not. The best we can do is remember.”

“Is that why Nate became Nat?”

Laura nods. Wanda looked away, fighting her own tears. 

“Pain is good. Vision said that once. It made him feel --- human,” Wanda finally said, her tears escaping her eyes. “I wish Nat found her humanity back in the end.”

“She did. I’m sure of it,” Laura assured her.

Then, as if on cue, little Nat appeared by the doorway. Wanda saw him and held out her hands to her nephew. Little Nat walked towards her and climbed on her lap. Despite the stain of tears on her cheeks, a huge smile crossed her face. She cradled little Nat’s face in her hands and looked into his eyes.

“Hello, Nat,” Wanda said softly. 

“Aunnie Wanna”, Little Nat said that made Wanda and Laura chuckle. Wanda pulled Nat in a hug and planted a kiss on top of his head. 

“I’m nothing compared to your Auntie Nat, but I’ll love you as fiercely as I know she would.”

Wanda became Clint’s connection to everyone beyond the perimeter of his farm. While he refused visitations and calls from the others, Clint welcomed Wanda in his home, something he knew Natasha would ask of him eventually if she was still alive. He gave her Natasha’s room and knowing he wanted to preserve Natasha’s memories in the house, Wanda didn’t change anything. She even made sure that when she was at the farm, she would wear Natasha’s old perfume. It somehow lessened the effect of her absence because they all felt like she was just there, invisibly among them, lingering in the air. Wanda loved how the scent added a blanket of security to her so she eventually kept wearing it everywhere.

“I remember Fury’s face the first time I walked in a meeting wearing it,” Wanda recounted. “He looked so confused at first, probably wondering how on earth he was smelling her. Then he stood up and excused himself.”

“To cry?” Laura asked in surprise.

Wanda shrugged.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if he did,” Clint said then drowned his beer. Wanda detected the sadness in his voice.

They were at the yard, preparing the table and grill for a small dinner party. Pepper called the other day and asked if she could talk to Clint. The last time he saw Pepper was during Tony’s funeral and like the others, he didn’t keep in touch with her. But there was something in Pepper’s voice that convinced him to let her come. Also, he couldn’t deny Morgan and his children the company of family. So, Clint agreed and Laura couldn’t be any happier. She made a big deal out of it that a small afternoon visit became a barbeque dinner. Clint wanted to argue further but he knew in his heart that Laura needed this too, and that he couldn’t keep his wife away from their friends just because he was too pained by his guilt to face any of them.

Finally, Pepper, Morgan, and Happy arrived. They shared a wonderful dinner, didn’t laugh as much as they thought they would, but still, it was warm, hearty, and lovely. Besides, you can always count on Clint for a first-class barbeque recipe. After they finished Laura’s peach pie, Clint stood up and motioned Pepper to follow him. Happy instantly stood up after Pepper but her hand on his shoulder told him not to worry. Happy didn’t argue, they were with family anyway, and helped himself to a third serving of Laura’s pie.

Clint led Pepper to the barn. 

“I asked him to fix that,” Clint said and pointed at the tractor.

Pepper looked at the old machinery and smiled, “and did he?”

Clint nodded with a smile. Neither spoke for a while, both unsure of what to say. They both lost big time and so both of them know that no words would be enough to comfort the holes in their hearts. So they just smile at each other and it was enough for someone like them who would never truly heal.

“Thanks for letting us come,” Pepper finally said. 

“Nat needs to know her family,” Clint replied. 

“That was a nice idea, by the way,” Pepper whispered and smiled. “ She’d be happy with that. She’s also the reason why I’m here.”

“What do you mean?”

“Executing Tony’s will.”

Clint paused for a moment, putting one and one together.

“Nat is in Tony’s will?”

“You all are,” Pepper said with a proud smile.

Clint looked confused so Pepper decided to continue.

“Well, for starters, you and Laura don’t have to worry about college. Cooper, Lila, and --- Nat can go to any college they want.”

Clint’s chest swelled and he was struggling not to break down in front of her. But even then, he couldn’t stop his eyes from watering. Pepper was polite enough to give him time to process. She just sat there with a huge smile and her eyes tearing up as well. 

“Seeing all of these, your home, your family, made a huge impact on him,” Pepper finally said.

Clint finally surrendered. He let go of his sobs and finally managed to say, “Thank you.”

Pepper smiled even more and continued, “As for Natasha. I think he tried buying the adjacent lots but he was unsuccessful at that.”

“What do you mean? The lots beside my house?”

“Yes. But no one was willing to sell so he looked for other options. He found one, an hour drive away from here.”

“He bought Nat a land? Why?”

“I guess, he wanted the same thing for Nat. You’re her family, there’s no denying that but maybe Tony thought it would nice if Nat would have something of her own.”

Clint was speechless. He sat across Pepper as he absorbed everything. He was trying to remember if Natasha ever mentioned about wanting a house, a family, a home. She never did. But then again, for as long as he had known her, Natasha did not want nor ask for anything really. Her past life made her believe that she could never be in a position to want anything, even though she deserved things, good things in life. Tony saw that and he had given her something more than just a property, he gave her a starting point where she could build a life away and different from what she was born and bred into.

“I haven’t been there. So I was thinking maybe we can see it together?” Pepper suggested.

Clint thought for a while, composing himself really, after his sobs. He looked at Pepper and said, “Can we bring the kids?”

A huge pleased smile spread across Pepper, “Of course.”

*******************

“There was no mention of a house,” Pepper said, looking with wonder and surprise at a two-storey farmhouse. It was a little bigger than the Barton’s, with a barn and an exterior garage but still looked homey. 

“Maybe he decided to complete the package,” Happy said.

“Would that pose a complication on the will?” Laura asked.

“No, I don’t think so. The property is in her name and so is everything on it,” Pepper said.

“Including the trees?” Lila asked. Pepper smiled and nodded, “Including the trees, sweetheart.”

Lila smiled, pleased. They all went inside and found it fully furnished, including the three bedrooms. The furniture and appliances were from 9 years ago but there was no indication they were even used. The dust gathering on the shelves and the expired canned foods in the cabinets also indicated that no one had been there for almost a decade.

“I think the last time anyone was here was in --- 2016,” Cooper said. Clint looked at his son reading the label of a can of peaches. 

Laura and Pepper looked at each other with understanding on the significance of the year. Clint avoided their eyes by looking around.

“There’s a letter!”

All of them tensed up in confusion and surprise. They ran up to the second floor and found Lila in the master bedroom. She was standing in front of a dresser, framed pictures of everyone they know Natasha cared for on top of it. There was of course a family photo of the Barton’s, stolen and candid photos of everyone from Steve to Fury. And there, leaning against the center frame was an envelope with the words, “To Whoever Finds this Letter”, in Natasha’s handwriting. Pepper picked it up but instead of opening it she gave it to Clint. He didn’t want to accept it at first, his whole body suddenly paralyzed by grief and fear at what the letter may reveal. Laura saw it so she took the letter and was grateful when Pepper left the room, followed by Happy and Morgan. Cooper looked at his mother for guidance and led his siblings outside after receiving an ‘okay’ nod from Laura. 

Everyone was gone but Clint didn’t seem to move an inch nor notice that Laura was the only left with him in the room. All he cared about was controlling his breathing to prevent himself from breaking down in front them. 

“Honey,” Laura said softly.

Clint was a bit startled by her voice and a gentle, warm touch on his forearm. He looked at her as she led them to sit by the bed. Laura offered the letter to him but he again refused to read it. 

“I can read it for you, if you want,” Laura asked. 

Clint swallowed hard then nodded. Laura slowly began reading the letter. Halfway through it, her hands were already shaking and she was having difficulty reading the words because her eyes were blurred by tears. By the end of the letter, Clint and Laura were both sobbing into each other shoulders, both with sad smiles on their faces.

To be continued….


	2. Sam and Fury

The last time Sam saw Natasha, she was running towards Thanos with a pair of tasers. Freaking tasers against a giant purple alien ape with magic stones. Then in a blink of an eye she was gone, or rather, he was gone. And then Sam remembered coming back, appearing exactly where he remembered disintegrating, only, it wasn’t the exact when. Thank god, Strange appeared almost instantly too, through a portal, and started briefing everyone of what was happening.

“What’s happening right now is,” Strange said, “in about fifteen minutes, Captain Rogers will stand face to face with the largest army the galaxy has ever seen, with no army and a broken shield.”

The idea of Steve standing against an enemy no matter how pained and bruised he is, was not news to Sam. But what bothered Sam was Steve doing it alone. Because for as long as he had known Steve, Natasha was always by Steve’s side. Sure, Natasha didn’t join them those months of searching for Bucky and she was on the other side during the whole Accords debacle, but she was always there when Steve needed her the most. He didn’t have time to think about it too much as T’Challa and Okoye started rounding up the Wakandan army and Strange drawing out these magic portals out of thin air.

The whole battle was a blur to Sam. He remembered a few details as he did his bit while hovering over the massive chaos. He remembered seeing Clint running with a golden thing in his arms, white horses with wings flying around him, and most especially, Steve summoning Mjolnir. Even now, he couldn’t shake off the chills when he heard his captain commanded everyone to assemble, but, he also remembered feeling a weird knot in his stomach when he didn’t see her familiar figure, who he thought had always looked perfect, at home, right by Steve’s side. 

When victory was theirs and Steve was giving him and Bucky a welcome back hug, Sam wanted to ask where she was. But for some reason he couldn’t bring himself to spit the words out of his mouth, maybe because a part of him already knew the answer, and it was one he didn’t particularly like. He thought maybe not knowing was probably better than denying the truth. But it was Natasha, not some stranger you’d see regularly in the same cafe because you both liked the croissants there. 

“Where’s Nat?” Wanda asked as her feet touched ground and the red glows disappeared from her hands.

Sam turned to Steve and one look at him confirmed the worst. Steve was already crying because of Tony, but Wanda’s question triggered a far greater pain buried inside him and he couldn’t do anything else but cry even more. None of them spoke for a while after that. Bucky simply walked over to his best friend and hugged him. Wanda fell on her knees and buried her face in her palms. 

Natasha was one, if not the fiercest woman he has ever known. He didn’t know that much about her past, except for the information she dumped in the internet and a few vague stories she was kind enough to share. He found her scary, yes, but even he wouldn’t deny that it made her appeal all the more palpable, irresistible even.

He witnessed first hand Natasha’s fierceness, in battle and in the relationships she had. She didn’t have a lot of functioning relationships and so she protected those she cared about with utmost loyalty and trust, the two ways she knew best how to express love. Steve was lucky, he was a direct beneficiary of that. 

So now, Sam couldn’t help but feel a bit jealous of Steve. Continuing Captain America’s legacy wouldn’t be easy for him. Not only because he did not have superhuman powers, a small band of soldiers to command, but he also did not have a Natasha Romanoff by his side. 

“You have to admit, half of the reason you, me, and Wanda survived all those years of running and hiding was Natasha. Your ‘How to be a Fugitive’ manual was underwhelming,” Sam said with a chuckle.

Steve couldn’t help but smile in agreement, making the wrinkles on his face even more pronounced.

“She also kept me on check,” Steve said.

Sam nodded earnestly then added, “Sure hell she did. Remember that look she sometimes would throw you when you come up with a plan?”

“Yeah, the ‘that’s-partly-stupid-but-I’m-not-going-to-contradict-and-hurt-your- feelings-so-better-rethink-it’ look?”

“That’s the one!” Sam yelled, his laugh bouncing off Steve’s apartment walls. “Eyebrow raised in question, lips in her trademark smirk…”

Sam loved visiting Steve whenever he would get time off. His hands were full these days especially ever since Fury’s newly reinstated ‘response team’ went public. As the official bearer of Captain America’s legacy, he accompanied Fury, Carol, T’Challa, Rhodey, and Thaddeus Ross to press conferences, interviews, and classified briefings around the world to help governments understand new kinds of threats, outer space and cosmic ones, and how they could best defend their countries and by extension the world, should another similar attack recurs. Sam found his work fulfilling but couldn’t help but sometimes BE frustrated with a few leaders who were either too arrogant or just stupid to reject help from them, especially from Fury and Ross. 

“God, I wish she is with us in those conferences, man,” Sam said. “Could you imagine the glare she would shoot those asses whenever they would say something she thinks stupid?”

Steve chuckled even more.

“But seriously, Steve, it’s hard. It’s hard without you two out there. I mean it’s nice Wanda and Rhodey’s with me in this, but Fury, man, I can’t read that eye patch most of the time. All the bullshit, the politics, the weeding through the lies… I don’t know how you did it.”

Steve smiled for a while and then, “It’s like what you said, Sam. I didn’t do it alone. I had her.”

Sam smiled. He almost wanted to cry but he could hear Nat’s voice in his head teasing him, “Ah, a tear for me, Wilson? That’s nice. But I suggest you save it. I don’t need you crying, I need you to go to work.” 

And so go to work he did. A part of him was grateful that they didn’t have to respond to any major threats yet. He guessed that the world was still too busy repairing itself that even the bad guys were still planning their evil plans from scratch. So, he enjoyed it, savored the peace. He tried contacting Clint to see how he could help him cope. He’d like to think he was already helping Steve, Wanda, and even Bucky on that regard but Clint’s refusal to see anyone was worrying him. 

“He’s fine. Well, not exactly fine but, he’s trying, I guess,” Wanda said when he asked about Clint. It was one of those days when Wanda came back from a weekend at the Barton’s.

“He knows he doesn’t have to do it alone, right?”

“He’s not alone, Sam. He has Laura and the kids. They’re going through it as a family, just like us,” Wanda said with smile.

Sam wished he could do more but he had to respect Clint’s wishes. In a way, Sam understood what Clint was going through. He didn’t know what exactly happened in Vormir that day, but he knew what losing your best friend felt like. Riley’s death changed him somehow. Good thing he was mentally alert to not let it change him for the worse. He hoped Clint wouldn’t allow himself spiral down because of this tragedy. But, yeah, losing one’s best friend, one’s partner was a hard blow to recover from. 

Sometimes, Sam would imagine what it would be like if Natasha was still alive right now. Would she hang up the suit and widow bites like how Steve let go of the suit and shield? Or would she remain in the game, continue the fight with a new Captain America by her side? Guess, he would never know. But what he was sure of was, things would be a hell lot easier and amazing if Natasha was there to guide him, just how she guided Steve find Captain America’s place in a modern, morally vague era. 

“I agree,” Fury said when Sam opened up to him about it. “I would do everything, give up my last eye if I have to, to get my best agent back. But right now, we have to make do with what we have.”

“She’d say the same thing,” Sam said with a soft laugh.

Fury smiled. It freaked Sam a bit but he immediately hid his surprise before Fury noticed it. Fury stood up and faced the glass windows, hands clasped behind his back and when he spoke, his voice had this softness Sam didn’t know the man was capable of producing.

“I wish I could have told her, Wilson. I wish I could have told her how proud I am of her,” Fury said, his voice cracking a bit. 

Sam felt uncomfortable with Fury suddenly being soft and open to him, to anyone, but he welcomed it all the same. It was what he did anyway, to be present and to listen to people in pain. And Fury, behind those steely eye and exacting demeanor, was a man grieving the loss of a daughter. 

“Not just because she accomplished every single mission I gave her or helped in creating the Avengers into what it is today,” Fury continued. “But because she won… she won her own battle.”

“What battle is that?”

“Redemption.”

Sam paused in silence. The world only saw Natasha as the merciless, lethal Black Widow and sadly, that was also how Natasha saw herself. But not Sam and the rest of their family. What Sam saw was a woman who dedicated her life into doing what was right. That was why she and Steve melded together perfectly no matter how different they were in other aspects. What Sam saw was a woman who would put herself last, who never wanted anything for herself but wanted everything for her family. 

“She did, Nick, long before her death if you ask me,” Sam finally said. 

Fury turned to him and nodded. “She was my favorite too, you know,” Fury said, but his voice was lighter. Sam raised his eyebrows. “Don’t worry, it has always been kind of an unspoken fact in SHIELD, I just never admitted it ---,”

“Until now,” Sam cut him off.

“Until now.” Fury echoed, firmly.

“Why was she your favorite?”

Fury sat back on his chair and leaned back and Sam was happy to see him a bit more relaxed than how he normally was. Fury raised his arms and clasped his hands behind his head.

“She lived in the gray. Her years of living in the dark side of life gave her a clear sight of what is right. But she was intelligent, she knew righteousness and absolute truth can be dangerous and so she planted herself in the moral gray of things.”

“That’s why you partnered her with Steve,” Sam said in realization.

Fury nodded then added, “One of the best ideas I ever had.”

Sam smiled and gave Fury two thumbs up. “I wish I have a partner like that now.”

“Well, unfortunately for you, son, the Natasha Romanoffs of this timeline come only once in a man’s lifetime.”

Sam nodded and chuckled, “Yup. So I have to make do with you guys.”

Fury chuckled too but Sam felt something weird at how that chuckle sounded. It was playful but knowing, a slight slyness in its undertones. Before he could give it any thought, they were interrupted by Fury’s intercom. Fury pressed a button.

“Yes?”

“Sir, Captain Danvers is on ---”

“Good. Give me 5 minutes then relay communication in my secure channel.”

“Very well, sir.”

The intercom went silent. 

“Guess that’s my cue,” Sam said playfully and started to stand up from his chair.

“Duty calls.”

“Of course.”

Sam was halfway through the door when Fury called him back. He was a bit confused to see some sort of struggle in Fury’s face, as if he was debating about something he was about to do. Sam waited for Fury. 

“I’m not sure if Natasha ever wanted Rogers to know about this or if she already told him,” Fury finally said as he pulled something out of his desk drawer --- a flashdrive. He held it out to Sam.

“What is it?”

“I thought it might cheer Rogers a bit.”

“Okay, thanks.”

Sam finally reached the door and closed it behind him. He heard the doorknob lock itself as Fury and Danvers commence their classified call on the other side. Sam looked at the flashdrive one more time, wondering its content.

“You’re such a tease, Romanoff,” Sam said with a smile and walked away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: It sucks that we didn’t see Sam and Fury grieving for her in Endgame. I mean, at least we saw Steve and Clint cry, even Wanda, somehow. Sam and Fury were two other men who had a special bond with Natasha, in my opinion, so I thought it would be nice to see them share their grief over the same loss. :) I think I’m going to write Bucky next. Thanks, for reading!


	3. Bucky

Bucky was back in Brooklyn, sharing a nice, spacious apartment with Steve in an inconspicuous neighborhood. T’Challa offered both of them a place in Wakanda but they both felt it was time for them to come back home. Pepper helped them get settled. She didn’t have to, but Bucky realized she needed to do it. Taking care of Tony’s family was Pepper’s way of coping up with everything.

Bucky was now a free man, sort of. Ross, Fury, and T’Challa sorted the 2016 Vienna bombing and he was proven innocent in that one. But not in the over two dozens atrocities he committed as HYDRA’s puppet. He was ready to face all the consequences, scared but ready. Some countries even demanded for his death as payment. But Fury stepped in for him. That surprised Bucky. A lot. So, Fury explained to them HYDRA’s brainwashing and of course capitalized on the fact that Bucky might as well be the longest American POW in history to put the odds in their favor. Those arguments plus his participation in the battle against Thanos appeased everyone. Then Fury went as far as to stake his life, that the next time the Winter Soldier step out of bounds from the law, he would take full responsibility. That seemed to seal the deal and satisfied those who were out for Bucky’s blood. Bucky couldn’t thank Fury enough. He didn’t know Fury and Fury technically didn’t know him, but there he was risking his ass for him. 

“I did it for Rogers,” Fury told him when he asked why. “And especially for her. I know it would be something she would ask of me, if she was here.”

_Her._

He didn’t tell them but he actually remembered _her._

Whatever Shuri was doing to him back in Wakanda was effective. They first worked on destroying the trigger words implanted in him. And when he was freed from them, they started working on sorting his memories. He remembered a lot, everything, but they were jumbled in his head and Shuri helped him put them in order. But during one of the last sessions they had, two months before Thanos came crashing into Wakanda, Shuri dug deeper than usual that they came across a huge chunk of memory suppressed and embedded way, way down. Gradually, they worked on it, stimulating it, restarting it somehow, until finally, it opened up a bit. And when it did, the first thing he saw was her. Younger, though, as young as Shuri. She had a bleeding cut on her forehead and a knife in hand. 

When Shuri asked what the memory was about, all he said was it was about a girl. Good thing Shuri didn’t probe further, probably knowing they were still in the early stages and things would be still be blurry. It would be awhile before he could arrange the newly recovered memory into a cohesive context. But alas, they didn’t have enough time. Thanos happened, the snap happened, and the next thing Bucky knew was, she was gone.

He had a lot of questions, especially now that more and more of her was coming back. It used to be just a leaky faucet, one drop at a time, but now, it was open and she was flowing freely in his mind, in his dreams. The thing he was having difficulty processing was the way he suddenly felt about her, because along with the old memories of her resurfacing, something old and familiar has stirred inside him too. 

He wanted to tell Steve. But a lot happened with Steve too. After Stark’s funeral, when they finally found the time to sit down and talk, Steve told him of his plans of going back to Peggy in the other timeline they created. Bucky didn’t want him to go, but what could he do, really? How could he stop his best friend from seizing the opportunity of finally experiencing the one thing he ever wanted but was deprived of? It hurt that Steve chose to leave him behind to get a life, but Steve promised he’d come back and Bucky promised that he’d be there. So, he set aside his own issues and no longer worried Steve that time.

Now that Steve’s back, old and wrinkly, yes, but still Steve, he wanted to finally tell him. But he didn’t know how. He was still piecing a lot about her and he knew how much she meant to Steve that it might pain his best friend more if he learned that she kept something this big from him all this time. 

He wanted to consult Barton. If there was anyone else who knew a lot about her past, it would be him. But Barton had retreated in his farm and Bucky couldn’t blame the guy if he wanted to deal with this tragedy on his own. So Bucky tried being patient and cool about it. Besides, he had his present to deal with. All he knew was he needed to stay out of trouble, but other than that, he didn’t know what else to do with his time. Steve and Sam told him to enjoy it, catch up on the hundred and one things he had missed in this century.

“Borrow Steve’s list,” Sam said one time.

“Oh, yeah, the list,” Steve said with a nostalgic smile. 

Bucky gave them a confused look. 

“It’s a list of things, recommendations really, that he should try, watch, eat, or go to after seven decades of beauty sleep, ” Sam explained and teased at the same time. “Where is it?”

Steve thought for a while and then, “at the compound.”

Sam’s heart sank. “So under the rubble.”

Bucky watched as both Steve and Sam fell into a sad silence. Then Steve finally spoke, his voice now light and lively, “We could make a new one, Buck, if you want.”

Bucky thought for a while. He looked at Steve, then at Sam, not sure what he was getting himself into. 

“Come on, man, it’ll be fun,” Sam exclaimed. 

Finally, Bucky smiled and nodded in agreement. Sam immediately looked for a pen and paper and they huddled on the table as Steve and Sam took turns jotting down their recommendations from music to food and movies, and even brands of deodorants and razors. Bucky looked at the two and was happy to see them happy, as if their hearts didn’t have a corner blackened with grief. 

“What do you think she’d put in my list?” Bucky suddenly asked.

Steve and Sam stopped, their smiles dropped. Bucky’s heart sank to see how quickly Steve became sad. Bucky felt bad at what he had done, but he had to start opening up about her, gather some context because lately, he found himself balancing extreme emotions about her, from happy to anger, from bliss to longing. It was eating him up inside and he needed release.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean --- I’m just wondering,” Bucky stammered.

Sam clapped his shoulder and said, “That’s okay. That’s actually a good idea because I have a suspicion that half of the things on Steve’s list probably came from her.”

Steve chuckled, “That’s true. Including the other dozen movies she forced me to watch on a 4-hour flight to our drop zone and the food she’d leave in my fridge and rot if I didn’t eat it.”

Bucky made an internal sigh of relief and smiled when Steve and Sam started thinking of her possible recommendations, started remembering her.

Bucky also started jotting down his memories of her. Some were so vivid that he was able to write paragraphs of it, not wanting to leave out any details, no matter how small. Like the strawberry sundae she was holding or the number of teaspoons of sugar she put in her coffee. He also didn’t hold back on the memories of them lying together in bed. Yes. He started remembering those. He felt happy playing those over and over in his head but he couldn’t help but feel there were more to those moments than just bliss. Then there were those of them sparring, cut and bruised but he remembered the subtle curls of her lips in satisfaction. He also recorded those vague ones, her running in her suit, gun in hand, her slipping in and out of the shadows as she moved closer to something, her squatting as she looked through a binoculars while he adjusted his scope and positioning his fingers at the trigger. Sure, he could draw up some theories about their relationship based on the memories he had but he didn’t want to risk that.

Since he couldn’t talk to Barton and he was still afraid of how Steve might react, Bucky went to the next person he believed could help him - Fury. 

Bucky sat across Fury, coffee and cakes spread in front of them. He couldn’t fathom why when he asked to see him, Fury chose to meet at a cafe. It was homey, with some country chic feel to it that was why he couldn’t help but feel out of place, especially with Fury and his all-black ensemble standing out from a sea of whites and pastels.

“When you said you needed to talk, I thought you’re ready to talk about your future,” Fury said, sipping his coffee.

“When you said we could talk over coffee, I thought you were referring to the bistro two blocks down,” Bucky sassed back.

Fury stopped and gave him a look. Bucky stiffened, worried that he might have miscalculated the amount of sass he was allowed to throw the man’s way. But after a few seconds, Fury withdrew his stare and forked through his cake. Bucky was relieved but decided to hold his tongue and let Fury restart the conversation.

“So, Romanoff huh,” Fury finally said before biting down on his cake. Bucky nodded. “What about?”

Bucky paused to gather his thoughts. He needed to ask the right questions because only then would Fury give him the right answers.

“Did she know me?”

“I don’t know,” Fury said almost immediately. Bucky’s brows furrowed in confusion. It wouldn’t surprise him if Fury was lying but deep inside, Bucky felt Fury was telling the truth, which confused him even more. How could Fury not know? Didn’t they flay her for her history, her past, before accepting her in SHIELD? Fury saw the struggle in his head.

“I’m telling you the truth, in case you’re wondering,” Fury said. “I actually didn’t even know that the Winter Soldier was Captain America’s best friend. All I knew was before all the shit that went down in DC, you and Romanoff crossed path once, just once ---,”

“Odessa,” Bucky interrupted. “I shot her to get to my target. I remember that.”

Fury nodded then, “What made you think she knew you?”

Bucky weighed if he was going to tell Fury about the memories. 

“Nothing, really. Just making sure I have all my memories back in order. I mean, she was from Russia, right? Might crossed paths or something… before you know, before she defected,” Bucky lied through his teeth.

Fury looked at him again and this time Bucky was sure the man was deciphering if he was telling the truth. Bucky held his breath. He was an assassin, the art of lying is beyond him.

“Makes sense,” Fury finally said and finished his cake. Bucky discreetly released a sigh of relief. “I wouldn’t know, Barnes, I swear. But, if you two indeed shared some history, I wouldn’t discount the possibility that she purposely withheld that information from me.”

“Why would she?”

Fury shrugged his shoulders and said, “But if she did, I wouldn’t take offense. People are entitled to have secrets. Besides, her secrets, her past didn’t matter to me in the long run.”

“Because she always got the job done.”

Fury nodded in pride. Bucky sat back in silence and just watched as Fury asked for the bill and pay for their cakes. 

“That’s actually a nice thought,” Fury as he stood up. “You and Romanoff. You two seem to be cut from the same cloth, if you think about it. Good day, Barnes.”

Bucky no longer responded. He just watched Fury leave in his black SUV.

He was slowly getting frustrated. He used to not remember anything but now, he was remembering but not understanding it. He was grateful to be regaining more bits of his old self little by little, but he could not totally be happy. Not when the last piece of connection he had with his old life chose to grow old in a different timeline without him. And then there was her. He was missing some context but memories of her somehow gave him a sense of completion, of wholeness. She also re-acquainted him to a range of emotions he seemed to have forgotten, or was forced to ignore all those years ago when he was nothing but a weapon.

It was unmistakable that regaining their shared memories was like getting the remaining jigsaw pieces and all he had to do was connect them all. He needed help to finish the puzzle and it frustrated him that the only person who could help him was gone.

So Bucky had to try again. Barton was his last hope. He asked Wanda to give Barton a letter he wrote for him. It simply stated, ‘I need to talk to someone about her. I knew her, didn’t I? Please, I need to remember.’ It took a few months before he received a response. It wasn’t a phonecall or a message. It was a parcel Barton sent through Wanda. 

Bucky sat in a park with the parcel in hand. He didn’t want to open it in the apartment, not with Steve around. Inside, he found old files, written in Russian. And finally, he got the context he was searching for. 

He trained her. They went on missions together. They met in secret. He sneaked into her room at night. They were discovered. They were punished and separated. They wiped him, made him forget. They left her with all of their memories as punishment. He was her teacher, her partner, her lover. He was hers. 

Bucky wasn’t crying as he read through the files. But his heart was silently shattering in a thousand pieces, his soul dimming and shrinking in grief. She lived through all the shit of the world without him by her side and now it was his turn to live his life without her. 

How could they be so unlucky? So perfect for each other, yet not destined to share a lifetime together.

But they did share a life, a long time ago. It was short, but intense and passionate enough that it might as well be a lifetime. Bucky finally understood Steve. If he could have that same chance, Bucky would go to her. And be hers again. 

A tear finally escaped Bucky’s eyes and immediately wiped them before the man sitting in a bench across him noticed it. He rifled through the files again and picked up old photographs of her. She never smiled in any of it. Her eyes were hollow and dim, her lips tight and jaws clenched. But Bucky knew, he remembered the fierceness, courage, strength, grace, and warmth she had when they were together, when he held her in his arms. She had this life in her that melted the coldness in him, that rekindled the human in him. She brought him back to life then. And now. 

Bucky finally went back to the apartment and Steve was worried to see his tear-stained face.

“Buck, what’s wrong?”

Bucky smiled, wide and warm, which confused Steve even more.

“I have something to tell you,” Bucky said. “I’m not sure how you’ll take it but I want you to know. I think she would want you to know.”

They sat down. Steve was quiet but his anxiety was burrowed in the wrinkles of his face. Bucky smiled again, hoping to calm his friend’s nerves.

“What is it, Buck?”

Bucky took a deep breath and finally said, “I knew her, Steve. We shared a past and --- Natalia was the one good thing in all of it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Ta-da!!! I had fun writing this one probably because I have always been a WinterWidow / BuckyNat shipper and their relationship is so beautiful to explore. It sucks that the MCU decided against it. Sorry, but the whole Bruce-Natasha shtick didn’t work for me. So, Steve’s next, which I think is going to be harder because Steve and Natasha’s friendship in the MCU is my favorite :) Don’t want to screw up that one. Thanks for reading!


	4. Steve

Steve watched the clock. It became some sort of a ritual for him to, at least once in a day, stand in front of the clock and watch it tick for a whole good minute. Then he would face away from the clock and wait for a few seconds as he looked around with anticipation. Nothing would happen of course, or at least not the one thing he hoped to happen. Bucky quietly watched him do this the first few weeks they moved in their Brooklyn apartment, so eventually, he filled in his friend’s curiosity.

“See you in minute,” Steve said softly. “Those were her last words to me. If I knew that was to be the last time I would see here, I would have said something back.”

“What would that be?” Bucky asked.

Steve paused and looked outside the window with longing eyes then he said, “I don’t know, Buck.”

He remembered the last time he saw her, she was smiling. He realized later on that that smile was probably the only truest and happiest smile he saw from her since the first snap happened. And all he gave her in return was a half-ass smile because his head was filled with the thousand ways their mission could fail, while she, she was savoring the moment, filled with hope that finally, she was going to see her family again.

The truth was, Steve felt guilty and ashamed. In the last five years of Natasha’s life, he sort of abandoned her. He packed his bags, left the compound, and settled back in the city. He fooled himself, convinced himself that he wanted to move on. He lied to himself thinking that he could actually do that and in the process, he left Natasha on her own. And now, he could only imagine all the days and nights Natasha spent alone in the vast spaces of the facility, with no one to talk to. There were nights when she probably fell asleep on the couch with the TV on and would wake up panting and sweating from a nightmare with no one to calm her down. Then there was the day she decided to stop cooking a proper meal because she had no one to share it with and then there were the days when she danced, on her pointe, and no one was there anymore to witness her grace. 

Because he abandoned her.

“She probably hated me,” Steve said. “Or at least a part of her did.”

“She could never hate you, Steve,” Bucky assured him.

“How could you know?”

“Steve, she risked her life and freedom, no, she forfeited her freedom when she let us go, back at the airport, remember? Plus, I’m sure there were also the hundred more things she did to probably save your ass because you were being an idiot.”

Steve looked at Bucky and saw his huge grin. Bucky was right, of course. Steve finally smiled. 

“She loved you, Steve, of that I’m sure.”

And he loved her. Not in the same light as Peggy but he loved her with as much fervor as he did Bucky. When he had nothing, he had Bucky. When he didn’t have Bucky, he had her. He always had her which made his present situation difficult to deal with. 

Natasha was a nice surprise for him. He didn’t expect that they'd fit perfectly together. They started as opposites who eventually met in the middle, two souls with different origins but melded beautifully together as they found themselves in the same path. And he would never give up on her. He finally accepted that it was irreversible but he was keeping hope tucked away in his heart that there was still something they could do. He imagined, if Tony was alive, the man would be relentless in figuring out what that something might be and he would be helping him anyway he can. But Tony was gone too and all he can do was take care of their family. Of Natasha’s family.

Pepper wanted to hold a memorial for her too. But Clint said it wasn’t necessary. Natasha was not one for the spotlight. Besides they didn’t have a body to bury anyway. But Clint’s true reason surprised him.

“I'm not holding a funeral for her because she isn’t dead, Cap,” Clint said the last time they saw each other at Tony’s funeral. “She may not be coming back, but that doesn’t mean we have to treat her as dead. She’s not. Not to me and my family.”

Steve wasn’t sure how healthy holding onto that belief was. But the idea that Natasha was just gone on a undercover mission where she had to go deep and dark, and could return anytime, warmed his heart so it couldn’t be that bad. So Steve joined Clint in that belief. 

He knew some people were wondering about or even questioning his decision to stay in the other timeline. He was sure that it hurt Bucky somehow, but Steve knew he would be back, that he was not leaving him forever. He had to do it because it was Natasha's wish for him.

_“We need to get a life.”_

_“You first.”_

So he did, not just the way everyone expected him to. Lately, he couldn’t help but wonder what if Natasha didn’t die. A part of him realized that if Natasha didn’t die, he probably wouldn’t have stayed in the other timeline. He probably would just get that dance with Peggy and come back to have that life here, with her, Bucky, and Sam. It would not be the same kind of life he got with Peggy, but it would be enough and he knew it would be awesome too. He would still pass on the shield to Sam and he would encourage Natasha to retire the bites and suit too. Then the two of them would try a different kind of life, one that they weren’t able to explore to serve their respective countries. Steve would finally go to an art school and Natasha could teach ballet to kids or dabble into new things and see what else she liked that wasn’t something forced on her. Anything, really. But she was gone. He wasn’t prepared for that, because not once did he think that she would actually leave him. 

To Steve’s surprise they didn’t ask him to detail his travel when he put the stones back in their original timelines. He thought they probably weren’t interested anymore because they had their own lives to fix, to resume, or to start. Not even Clint. He expected Clint to ask about his visit in Vormir, if he saw Natasha or if he tried bargaining with the Guardian. But nothing. Clint had retreated away from them. He couldn’t blame him. He failed him too, in a sense, and not to mention he perfectly understood how Clint was feeling right now. He’d been there. Since no one asked about his travel, he didn’t tell, and to be honest, he preferred it that way.

Steve was happy when Sam and Wanda joined Fury in restoring the facility and his new ‘response team’. He was also pleased to hear that Wakanda had gotten back onto its feet and opened their borders to the world. And he was thankful he had Bucky back. It worried him a bit to see how uncomfortable his friend was, primarily because he didn’t know what to do with himself now. Fury asked Bucky to join them but Bucky declined. Steve thought it was because Bucky was disappointed to not inherit the shield from him.

“What?” Bucky asked in surprise. “No, Steve. And even if you did give it to me, I would have refused it anyway.”

“Why?”

“Probably for the same reason why you didn’t give it to me in the first place. I don’t deserve it,” Bucky replied with a sad smile.

Steve sighed and said, “That’s not my reason.”

He saw the question in Bucky’s face so Steve continued, “It’s not that you didn’t deserve it. It’s just you deserve and needed more. I figured, it is time for you to choose your path, Buck. After years of HYDRA, you deserve freedom. I’m not going to hinder you from figuring out what you really want by passing on you a responsibility I know for a fact has a lot of expectations attached to it. You didn’t just regain your memories, you also regained who you were and it’s time you figure out who you want to be.”

Steve received the warmest hug=from him. 

“We’re both free, so to speak. I’m no longer Captain America and you’re no longer the Winter Soldier.”

“I’m not Bucky Barnes anymore, either,” Bucky said.

“Of course you still are! A bit angry and self-loathing, but still the cheeky nerd who checked every alley in Brooklyn to find me.”

Bucky chuckled, “Yeah, to save your skinny ass from getting beat up.”

They both laughed for a moment. “You are also still her James.”

Bucky looked at him with undeniable sadness. When Bucky told him about his history with Natasha, Steve admitted he felt a bit betrayed. Natasha had every opportunity to tell him that but she didn’t and it bugged him since why she kept silent about it. He just took comfort in the thought that his two favorite people found each other when he couldn’t be there for them during the darkest years of their lives.

“I miss her, Buck. I miss her so much,” Steve said. He tried so hard to swallow that lump in his throat but couldn’t and his voice cracked along with tears escaping his eyes. The last time Bucky saw him cry like that was at his parents’ funeral. What he didn’t know was Steve cried like that for him too.

He felt Bucky’s arm around his shoulder. “I know,” Bucky said. “But can you imagine how I’m feeling right now? I got her back and lost her again. Forever this time.”

Steve held Bucky’s hand with his and said with a smile, “We have what we have when we have it.”

“That’s nice. Where did you get that? Read it somewhere?”

“You really think I couldn’t have come up with it myself?” Steve asked in mocked offense, wiping the tears from his cheeks.

“Did you?” Bucky challenged him.

Steve paused for a moment. Bucky grinned when Steve couldn’t hide the embarrassment anymore. “Fine,” Steve finally said. “I got it from her.”

Bucky grinned wider, “Of course you did.”

“Shut up, punk,” Steve said and playfully punched Bucky on the shoulder. “You know, it makes sense.”

“What?”

“You two. You know, cheeky, flirty, huge dorks. Plus, you have always had a weakness for redheads.”

Steve and Bucky laughed. Not many knew Natasha the way he knew her, so to have someone like Bucky to share his fondest memories of her with was a relief from the usual darkness that comes with grief. Of course, being the gentleman that he was, Steve didn’t ask Bucky for the details of their Red Room romance. Having first hand experience and knowledge of their personalities, he was sure it was nothing short of intense. 

If Bucky had his secrets with Natasha, Steve also had one. No, it wasn’t a moment he and Natasha shared or created together, well, at least not in this timeline.

In the other timeline, Steve didn’t try to meddle much with history. He decided that while humanity could do better, he couldn’t risk all the amazing things that happened, the advancements, and achievements that resulted in incredible milestones in human history. So he only ‘meddled’ on a few things, two things to be exact. 

First was Bucky. With Peggy and SHIELD’s help, they rescued Bucky in the early 80s. But unfortunately, he was still well deep into HYDRA’s programming and the technology to counter that wasn’t available yet. So, Steve had no choice but to keep Bucky in cryostasis until Howard Stark made true to his promise of finding a solution. Two years later, Howard finally did. After almost a year of gruelling sessions, they freed Bucky from HYDRA’s programming and got his chance at life. 

Then the other thing Steve ‘meddled’ with was Natasha. Steve traveled to Russia and visited a certain orphanage in Stalingrad in 1985. And there he found her. One-year old Natasha. He instantly knew it was her. He remembered the orphanage’s name from the SHIELD files Natasha dumped in the internet and he wouldn’t mistake that fiery red hair and sparkling green eyes for anyone else. They called her ‘Little Red’, but after all the paperwork, she became Natasha Sarah Rogers and she grew up to become the most adorable daddy’s little princess. Steve gave her a good life, a life Natasha could have but was robbed off. Then when she was six years old, he enrolled her in ballet classes and she danced her way to a spot at the New York City Ballet as a soloist. Steve loved her, cherished her because he would need those memories to help him deal with the pain when he went back to his original timeline, where he would lose her again.

Nobody knew of this and Steve decided he won’t tell anyone. Maybe Bucky, later on. He still wasn’t sure. But right now, he would keep it his. His and hers. So, yes, at some point, there was a parallel universe where Natasha Romanoff had a childhood, had a father who didn’t see her as a weapon, had a life that didn’t start in tragedy. For Steve, that was all he could do for her, to make up for his shortcomings, for abandoning her, for taking her for granted. 

Figuring things out in his original timeline as an old man proved to be tricky. But he remembered how Natasha suggested that he kept to a routine. So he did that again, especially in the mornings. Breakfast, coffee, morning walk, and newspaper reading in a nearby park. Then he reserved the afternoons for socials and other activities. For example, he and Bucky went back to the old neighborhoods they knew as kids. It saddened both of them to see how much of it have changed as if their old neighborhood, their childhood didn’t exist at all. They moved back to Brooklyn because they wanted to feel at home, but it seemed like it wasn’t anymore. 

That was why Steve was more keen and excited whenever Sam, Wanda, or Rhodey would drop by because he felt at home with them. Fury, too, much to his surprise. Steve thought probably because they all connected him to Natasha, who he realized was his home all these years. 

One day, Sam came to visit and Steve’s excitement was so evident.

“Geez, calm down, old man,” Bucky teased him. “It’s just Wilson.”

“Yeah, but it’s been a month since he was last here,” Steve said with a laugh.

“That’s my point, it’s been _just_ a month,” Bucky said with a mock irritation in his voice.

Before Steve could give his counterpoint, the doorbell rang and Bucky ushered in Sam. 

“Bucky missed you,too,” Steve blurted out as he hugged Sam.

Bucky crossed his arms and said, “Yeah, sure. Whatever.”

Sam laughed and clapped Bucky on the shoulder. “I know you did, princess.” They all laughed then Sam continued. “Sorry, Fury is relentless.”

“I warned you,” Steve teased. 

“Yeah, but, he sent a gift,” Sam said with a smile and brought out the flashdrive.

Steve looked at it with worry. He had a particularly bad experience with Fury and flashdrives. Sam saw it and said, “I was worried too at what it could be. He said it might cheer you up. But a part of me was apprehensive that Fury had a beat on what could possibly cheer you up. So, and I hope you won’t mind, but I looked at it first before coming here.”

“And you coming here means, Fury was right, it would cheer him up?” Bucky asked.

“Yeah, and maybe tear up a little, too,” Sam said with smile. 

Bucky didn’t say anything for a while, a bit dubious. Steve looked at Sam and reminded himself that he trusts the guy. Sam wouldn’t hurt him on purpose so if he believed it would cheer him up, then he had to see it for himself.

“Alright, then,” Steve finally said. “Plug it in.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I didn’t want to write about Steve and his visit in Vormir because I haven’t really thought of that yet. Haha! Maybe later on. But, I was so nervous to write this one. Steve and Natasha’s relationship was a special one for me. They weren’t romantic and it was perfect. I actually felt their relationship was more fleshed out than hers and Clint’s. But anyway, one of the things I started pondering on after watching Engame was Steve in the other timeline. I’m sure he wouldn’t leave Bucky and Natasha in HYDRA and KGB’s hands just like that, not when he had a chance to make it right by them. So that was my idea. Steve adopting Nat as his daughter. Haha! I thought it was cute and bittersweet at the same time. Don’t you think? Maybe I could write a whole new story focusing on that. I don’t know. Let’s see. Thanks for reading!


	5. Nat's Boys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I don’t know if the Black Widow would tackle her recruitment into SHIELD but until we find that out, this is how I imagine it happened. I couldn’t also help but wonder if Natasha and Peggy didn’t really interact all those years in SHIELD. I wanted to believe that they did. Plus, I just thought it would a nice idea fully connect Steve with his past. He lost Bucky and Peggy but he had both of them in Natasha. :)

Sam plugged in the flashdrive in the TV and in a few seconds its contents flashed on the screen. It had over two dozen video files. Steve braced himself as Sam clicked on the first one. 

_**Videofile: NAR-V125-4.18.2000**  
The cell was approximately 50square meters, well lit with white padded walls. It had a bed, a table, a chair, a small toilet and sink enclosed by an opaque screen for a bit of privacy. _

_A 20-year old Natasha laid on the bed, her long curly red hair sprawled around her head like a crown, hands on her stomach, eyes glued at the ceiling. She was wearing a white prison uniform that was a cross between a scrub suit and an overalls. She looked tired, dark circles underneath her eyes but other than that, she looked relaxed._

_The door buzzed and Natasha casually stood up and faced the wall, and clasped her hands behind her back. Then Coulson emerged from the door and told her that it was finally okay to turn back around. Natasha did but still stood by the wall, hands relaxed by her sides. Coulson didn’t immediately speak either. He just stood there, hands clasped in front of him and doing his habit of slight bopping up and down on his feet._

_“How are you?” Coulson finally asked, with his usual calm, smiling demeanor._

_“I’ve had worse,” Natasha said with a smirk._

_“I bet you have. Barton petitioned again, you know, to visit, but no one can have access on you beyond me and Director Fury until the council has their verdict.”_

_“The council,” Natasha said. “I’m curious about this council and why they can’t seem to make up their mind. It’s been what, four months?”_

_“Four months and twelve days,” Coulson matched her cockiness. “And it’s not because they couldn’t make up their mind. They already have.”_

_“And?”_

_“They want you dead, of course,” Coulson said sternly. “But ---”_

_Natasha held her breath but retained her smirk. Coulson continued, “Barton and Director Fury are putting their asses on the line for you.”_

_“I didn’t ask them to do that,” Natasha said._

_“You didn’t have to. They’re grown men, they know what they want and what they’re doing.”_

_“Is that so? What about you? What do you say?” Natasha asked him in her usual deceiving sweet voice._

_“I say we could someone like you,” Coulson said._

_“Exactly and here I am, already volunteering myself to be used by your agency in exchange for my life, and yet your council can’t seem to appreciate that.”_

_“It’s true we can use you but, we can’t trust you, can we?” Coulson asked._

_“Well, that’s what my previous employer eventually said to me, too.”_

_“SHIELD is not like them,” Coulson said in defense. “For starters, we don’t chastise our agents with torture for disobedience, insubordination, or failure and we most definitely do not collect our agents from orphanages and break them into compliance.”_

_“Oh, that’s nice,” Natasha said, deflecting the pain in her heart with cheekiness._

_Coulson’s words hit close to home and she knew Coulson was finding her pressure point. She was trained to deflect, groomed to be an enigma and so Coulson remained oblivious to the fact that he did hit a soft spot. They didn’t say anything for a while but kept looking at each other, gauging each other. Coulson sounded a bit hostile but Natasha knew it was all a facade. So she lowered her guard and relaxed a bit more, slumping her shoulder with emphasis to let Coulson know._

_The door buzzed open again and an agent came in with a tray of food and small bag. He put it on the table and left again._

_“I apologize for the food though. I admit, it could be better,” Coulson said with a smile._

_“Oh no, it’s fine. Like I said I’ve had worse,” Natasha said. “The mashed potato could use a little more butter, though.”_

_Coulson smiled and Natasha was relieved to see the hostility gone. Coulson then opened the bag and laid down its contents on the table --- a couple of books, a brand new toothbrush, and a small bottle of scent._

_“Lavender. Thought it might help you, with the sleep,” Coulson said. “And I didn’t peg you as an artist so, books, instead of pen and paper. You know, to help pass the time.”_

_Natasha kept silent, overwhelmed and unsure how to handle the kindness being thrown her way. She was supposed to be a prisoner and yet she wasn’t being treated as such. Growing up, she was taught that prisoners should be locked in dark, small, filthy cells, often naked, then occasionally water-boarded._

_“Why are you doing this?” Natasha asked, genuinely confused._

_“I’ve read your file, seen you in action so I know for a fact that you can use any of these things to fight your way out of here. Hell, I’m sure you can do that with your bare fists.”_

_“Exactly my point. So why?” Natasha asked again._

_“Because I want to trust you, Ms. Romanova,” Coulson said calmly. “I already said it, I believe we can use someone with your gifts, I just need to believe that we can trust you, too.”_

_Natasha was speechless. All she managed was a shy smile and a nod before Coulson smiled too and left her cell. She walked over to the table went straight for the bottle of lavender. She opened and sniffed it, and a huge, warm smile crossed her lips. She put it down and pulled the tray of food in front of her and she started eating. The video ended in black._

“I read up on him. Asked Maria about him too. Wish we got to know him,” Sam said when the video ended.

“He was a good man,” Steve whispered.

“Why do you think Fury sent you this? To remind you of the people who died on your watch?” Bucky asked, fuming a bit.

“Relax, Buck. It’s not upsetting me, if that’s what you’re worried about. It’s actually nice,” Steve said. “To see them again. To know who they were before I met them.”

“And it’s just getting nicer,” Sam said excitedly. “I think.” Steve laughed as Sam click on the next video.

The next couple of videos showed Natasha’s routine while in captivity. The room had no windows nor clocks so Natasha had no sense of time. But she kept to a routine. When she finally decided to ‘wake up’, she didn’t sleep, not really, she started her day with her ballet warm-ups and a short choreography . Or at least what her space would allow her. 

Then every other day, an agent would bring her to the showers. She would eat her breakfast, slowly and meditatively, then she would try to take a nap. When she would fail at that, which was usually, she’d pick up her book. She was a fast reader so she would finish a 300-pager in three days. Good thing Coulson kept books coming for her. Twice a month, a doctor would come in to perform basic check-up and of course she was fine, except for the fact that she lost a few pounds. They managed it by changing her menu and increasing her rations. 

It was the nights that were painful to watch. The lights in the cell would automatically dim, signaling her that it was bedtime. It would take a few shuffling around in the bed before she could finally settle on a comfortable sleeping position. But whatever that position was, she always had her arms stretched above her head. Then she would try to sleep. _Try_ was the operative word because despite the comforts of her situation, she didn’t seem to manage a good night’s sleep. There were times when she didn’t sleep at all and those nights that she did, she was plagued with nightmares. She didn’t scream, though. Every time she would have a nightmare, her body would just become rigid, like she was being restrained by a straightjacket. It was only her head that made violent movements as she threw it side to side. Her breathing suffered the most. She would always had difficulty breathing and it seemed like she was deliberately holding her breath so she can prevent herself from screaming. It would be minutes before she would snap out of it on her own but there were a couple of times when agents stormed in to wake her up because she seemed to be failing in battling it herself. 

“I hated seeing that,” Sam said, wiping his eyes. “Reminded me how scary it was in person.”

“What do you mean in person?” Bucky asked.

“When we were on the run. We had to live in close quarters and she would have those episodes, once or twice a month. Steve was the only one strong enough to shake her awake and the only one who could handle her when it got rough.”

Bucky’s eyes furrowed in confusion. Sam continued, “She once ended up strangling Steve because she thought she was still dreaming.”

Bucky looked at Steve. He was just staring at the video, paused on the image of three guards trying to wake up and subdue Natasha at the same time.

“I tried talking to her about it, you know,” Sam continued. “But she said she was a different sort of nut case that my experience with war veterans wouldn’t work on her. So I backed off. I wish I didn’t.”

“You didn’t, Sam,” Steve comforted his friend. “You were there for her, right ‘til the end.”

Sam and Bucky smiled in agreement. Then Steve took the remote control and moved on to the next video. He hit play.

_**Videofile:NAR-V185-6.17.2000**  
It was a different room. It was smaller with a harsh cold lighting and its walls were gray, hard and metal. At the center was a square table with two chairs across each other. On one of the chairs sat a person, facing a huge one-way mirror, a black bag covering its head, hands in handcuffs. Fury entered the room in his usual might and swag and sat across the person. _

_“You can take it off now,” Fury said._

_The person nimbly freed its wrists from the cuffs and pulled the bag from its head, disheveling a chunk of red hair in its wake. Natasha smile as she gently placed the cuffs and bag on the table._

_“I don’t know why we bother, really,” Fury said that made Natasha smile a bit._

_“Because you care,” Natasha said, teasingly. Fury looked at her, gauged her a bit._

_“You’re right. I do. And it may surprise you to hear that I do care what happens to you.”_

_Natasha smile widened, like a very pleased child. Fury continued, “I care so much that I actually spend my precious time convincing the council why displaying your head on a plate for the world to see is a huge waste of resources.”_

_“Thank you,” Natasha said playfully. “But for future reference, if you do have to put my head on a plate, please don’t use silver. I prefer gold, if you have those lying around.”_

_“Noted,” Fury said with a hard chuckle and continued, “the information you gave last time surprisingly pleased the council. They’re wondering if you could share more of the same, as a sign of goodwill.” He then open the folders he was carrying and laid down photos of over a dozen men on the table. Natasha threw a quick glance on the photos then looked at Fury, straight in the eye. She didn’t flinch nor shrink when Fury finally stared back._

_“The Yakuza, Italian and Russian mafias seemed very busy lately. That even their members who were so camera shy in the past ten years are suddenly popping out in our radar like mushrooms. You had dealings with all three organizations in recent past, might have any idea why they’re acting like an asteroid is hitting the planet?”_

_Natasha’s lips lined in a smile then chuckled. She looked at the photos in front of her and re-sorted them out. She drew out several photos from each organization and stacked them on a corner. Fury’s eyebrow raised in question._

_“You don’t need to worry about them,” Natasha said, feigning innocence. “Let’s just say I already took care of them for you.” Fury gave her a poker face. Then Natasha combined the photos of the Yakuza and Italian mafia. “They’re not preparing for an asteroid, they’re preparing for a war and a wedding.”_

_Fury leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. Natasha continued, “The Yakuza’s heir and the Italian mafia’s princess got past their families’ bullshit and want to ring the wedding bells. Probably a bit tricky, but the parents didn’t care above love and all that shit because all they saw was it was good for business. And bad for the Russians.”_

_Fury didn’t immediately react. He just raised in eyebrows in surprise and disbelief. “Romeo and Juliet?”_

_“Mafia-style,” Natasha said playfully then laughed. “Why not, right?”_

_Fury shook his head and gave his share of laughter as he gathered the photos in the folder again. “I’ll be damned.”_

_“You believe me then?” Natasha asked genuinely._

_“Yes, I do,” Fury said._

_“Why? For all you know I just spun you fairy tale.”_

_“Oh, you mean those grim, wild, bloody ones that you like?” Fury teased. Natasha chuckled a bit._

_Fury leaned on the table, crossed his arms on top of it and took a deep breath. “I have to believe you because I need to learn how to trust you, Ms. Romanova. The council told me that you’d be spared of the firing squad as long as I will be directly accountable for your actions. In short, I have to learn to wade through your bullshit if we both want to make it out alive from all of this.”_

_“Look, I am fine to operate under your organization but I don’t like to work for _any man_.”_

_Fury paused and assessed her. Ever since she was taken in, Natasha was nothing but compliant and amenable but right now, it’s the first time Fury saw defiance in her._

_“Not for me, _with_ me. Plus, I don’t think you have much of a choice, Ms. Romanova,” Fury said. “It’s me or the bullet. I’m sorry those are your only choices but I think you’re smart enough to know which is the better one.”_

_“Is the bullet at least made of gold?” Natasha asked. Fury looked at her and played along._

_“I’m afraid not,” Fury replied. “Not practical.”_

_“Shame. Then I guess I have no choice but the eye patch. Besides, how bad can you be?”_

_Fury had to laugh at that. He was starting to like this one. “Good choice. Believe me, Ms. Romanova, SHIELD is your best option to get that one thing you’re searching for.”_

_“Oh? And what that might be?”_

_“Redemption,” Fury said._

_Natasha almost choked as Fury’s word took her by surprise. Her heart swelled and she had to bite the insides of her cheeks to stop herself from crying. Her eyes start to well up but she still looked at Fury._

_“Sit tight, we’ll win over the council soon enough.”_

_Natasha raised an eyebrow at him, challenging him._

_“I’ll bring in my big gun,” Fury said with a smile and exited the door. Natasha couldn’t help but smile in curiosity. She started to handcuff herself again when an agent emerged from the door and told her that wouldn’t be necessary. Natasha stood up and casually walked out of the interrogation room._

No one spoke for a while after that video, realizing what exactly it was that Fury wanted them to see and know when he sent them the files. They were all dealing with Natasha’s death, and Fury wanted to remind them of Natasha’s life, her re-birth into the light. Grieving for her was fine, necessary even, but Fury didn’t want that to be the only thing they would do for her from now on. What he wanted for them to do was celebrate her and the person she _chose_ to become.

Fury was right. It sure hell cheered up Steve. A little on the bittersweet side but still, it was refreshing after all these months. Finally, Steve managed a smile. He got the remote control again and was about to play the next video when Sam snatched it from him and chose to play the third video from the last. 

“This one is my favorite and I’m sure it’ll be yours too,” Sam said with a wide grin. Steve didn’t argue anymore and waited for the video play. 

_**Videofile:NAR-V205-7.07.2000**  
Natasha was back in her cell doing push ups on the floor. Then she went to do a plank. She was sweating but she made it look easy, pretty much like everything else she did. After probably three or four minutes of planking, she stood up and took a swig of water. She was breathing hard as she went to the sink and rinsed the sweat off of her face. Then the door buzzed and Natasha immediately wiped her face and stood by the wall. She was taken a back for a bit when an old woman walked in her cell. She was elegantly dressed, her coat ending at her mid-calf and Natasha could see a bit of her stockings. Her wavy shoulder-length hair perfectly combed and cascaded just above her shoulders. She had wrinkles but not enough to take your attention away from beauty and her impeccable red lips. _

_Peggy Carter._

_“Hello,” Natasha said with a poker face._

_“Hello,” Peggy greeted back in her accent. Her voice was a bit shrill and shaky but still beautiful. “I’m ----,”_

_“Peggy Carter,” Natasha cut her off. “Fury’s big gun.”_

_Peggy smiled, a proud one. She pointed at the chair by the table. Natasha nodded and Peggy sat down. Natasha watched as Peggy removed her gloves._

_“So,” Peggy started. “I heard you’re quite the conundrum for the council.”_

_“I do have that effect.”_

_Peggy stared at her and Natasha stared back. There wasn’t hostility or awkwardness in the air. It seemed more like two strangers relishing their fascination for meeting a kindred spirit but they couldn’t hold hands, hug each other, or sit by the bed to exchange stories because well, one was an ex-SHIELD director and the other was a Russian spy. Mutual respect and admiration radiated from the both of them and Peggy was the first to break out a smile._

_“So, Director Fury filled me in. I see you’ve been very cooperative and compliant. And --- not getting proper sleep, apparently,” Peggy said and pointed at the dark circles underneath Natasha’s eyes. “Why didn’t you tell them?”_

_“Tell them what?”_

_“That you needed a pair of these,” Peggy said and pulled out a pair of metal handcuffs from her coat’s pocket and placed it on the table. All Natasha did was look at the cuffs. “You’re not my first, you know.”_

_“What a shame. I kind of thought I’m one of a kind,” Natasha asked, regaining her ground and pulling in her training, ready not to be outwitted by Peggy Carter._

_“You are, darling. But there were others before you, you know. Dottie Underwood.”_

_Natasha’s face fell upon hearing the name as his childhood memories from the Red Room came crashing out of the dam she built around it._

_“Then you know what we really are, what I was really meant for.”_

_“I do,” Peggy said in a surprisingly calm voice._

_“Then why are you helping me?”_

_“When SHIELD was created, one of my more personal crusades was to dismantle the Red Room. Not just out spite of Underwood who, unfortunately, slipped from my fingers. But because I know what they do to little girls like you. I know how they break you until you were malleable enough for them to mould you into exactly what they wanted.”_

_“Well, congratulations, you’ve done your job beautifully,” Natasha said sarcastically._

_Natasha could see the hurt in Peggy’s eyes. She wasn’t particularly offended by her choice of words, but the truth underneath it all._

_“Yes. And it’s my fault,” Peggy said. She swallowed hard and continued to say, “I’m sorry.”_

_Natasha stiffened, obviously unprepared to hear those words. Nobody had ever said those words to her before._

_Peggy continued, “Dottie’s success probably encouraged the Red Room to push further with its programs. Ones that you suffered and endured. That’s why I apologize.”_

_Natasha’s eyes were welling up from sadness and anger but she managed to contain them in. “What do you want me to say? That I forgive you?”_

_“No,” Peggy said. “I want you to finish my work. Dismantle the program, track down every single person who worked in it ---,”_

_“And?”_

_“I’ll leave that up to you. And then of course, render your services, your gifts, for the sake of SHIELD’s causes.”_

_Natasha thought for a while. She started pacing back and forth and shooting glances at Peggy. She wanted the same thing but she just wanted to make sure that the old woman wasn’t pulling her leg. She might be gray and old but she still was Peggy Carter for crying out loud. She had to be smart about it._

_Finally, Natasha said, “Well, that sounds like my kind of party, but that’s a bit hard to do in this cell and in this unflattering pajamas, don’t you think?”_

_A satisfied smile lined Peggy’s lips. She pulled out a folder from her coat and put it on the table. It had a SHIELD logo and the words ‘CLASSIFIED’ stamped huge in red ink across it._

_“What’s that?”_

_“That, young lady, is your file. Your _SHIELD_ file,” Peggy said still with the smile on her face. She nodded and Natasha cautiously approached the table. She opened the folder and saw the bio page. It had all her credentials and clearances. Peggy stepped closer to her and held out her hand._

_“Welcome to SHIELD, Agent Romanoff.”_

_Natasha looked at her, eyes glistening with hope, relief, and gratitude. “Romanoff?”_

_“Well, it’s just me. I felt like your new life deserves a new name, or at least nickname. Don’t you think?”_

_Natasha smiled and said, “Natasha. Natasha Romanoff.” She reached for Peggy’s hand and shook it._

_“I know we have a little deal, but I have to remind you, you’re an agent of SHIELD, not mine. So you be nice to Director Fury. Besides, I’m already retired,” Peggy said with a chuckle. Natasha smiled._

_The door buzzed open and Peggy walked to it. Before totally stepping out, she turned around and said, “Good luck. I have all the faith in the world in you.”_

_Natasha couldn’t explain it, but her heart swelled in pride at Peggy’s words. Her former handlers used to say that to her too but there was something different in the way Peggy said it to her. There was no subtext, malice, or intrigue. It was just pure, uplifting, and warm. She watched Peggy disappear around the corner, the door of her cell left wide and open._

The video ended and Sam couldn’t stop beaming. “See, I told you, that was my favorite!” Bucky slapped him at the back and pointed at Steve. Sam stopped smiling seeing Steve’s solemn reaction.

Steve stood up and slowly walked away from them. Bucky and Sam looked at each other, worried and perplexed. Steve walked to the window and looked outside. His face manifested the confusion and sadness brewing in his heart. Bucky and Sam followed and stood by his side. 

“I don’t understand,” Steve finally said. “Why didn’t she tell me? Why keep these secrets from _me_?” Sam didn’t know what to say. He just placed a hand on Steve’s shoulder to calm him down.

“Maybe,” Bucky said tentatively, choosing his words carefully, “maybe because she wanted you to know her for who she was. If you knew she was my girl and Peggy’s protegee, that’s probably the only thing you’d see in her too.”

Sam’s brows furrowed when he heard about Natasha being Bucky’s girl but decided to reserve that question for later. He agreed with what Bucky said.

“You probably would have treated her differently, too,” Sam said. “And she didn’t want that. She wanted you to be honest and objective with her. No bias, no preconceived notions, nothing. Just her.”

“I’m sure she battled with herself everyday for not telling you,” Bucky added. “She was her own woman. She dictated how she wanted the world to see her.” Then Bucky turned to Sam and continued, “Tell Fury he was wrong. His gift made things worse.”

“No, Buck,” Steve said. “It made me miss her more but yes, it did cheer me up. And I’m sure it cheered you up, too.”

Bucky suddenly blushed and smiled sheepishly. Steve teased his friend. Sam took the opportunity.

“Yo, about that, what’s this about Natasha being your girl? That’s impossible, man!”

“Oh, Wilson, you have no idea!” Bucky taunted him with smug. 

Sam pestered Bucky to spill the beans but Bucky shut his mouth and refused to say more about the matter. Steve laughed at their silliness but loved every second of it. 

Steve could hear Natasha’s voice chuckling in his head and saying, _“You need better friends, Rogers.”_

“That’s why I have you,” Steve whispered back with a bittersweet smile on his face.


	6. Nat's Letter

To whoever finds this letter,

No one really knows about this place so if you are reading this, it means Tony and I are dead and you are figuring out what to do with the property. Everyone knows I hate paperwork, so I’m declaring this letter as my last will and testament, even though I don’t really have anything else to leave behind. 

I don’t really have a family, not by blood anyway. What I have are random strangers, mission targets, former enemies, work partners, all of whom eventually became my chosen family. We’re connected not by blood, but by choice, and for anyone who knew my story would know that for me, _choice_ is more valuable than life itself. 

Clint is pretty much the first family I had in this post-brainwashed life. While I know Laura can use the additional space for the kids and the craft room she always wanted but Clint never had the chance to construct, they wouldn’t give up their house. And I don’t want them to either. It was there where I learned the difference between a house and a home; it was the first place where I felt warm all the time, even in the middle of winter. I want them to keep that warmth in that house and I hope they would open their home to Wanda. Yes, I give my permission to let Wanda have my room. *wink*

While Nick and Maria are family, too, I’d like to think I know them well enough to believe that settling down is not their cup of tea. I know Fury would only lose his mind in domesticity and I know Maria, based on our more than once drunken conversations, never saw herself behind a white picket fence. So I know that they’d feel more at home at HQ, wherever that might be. They both know I used to crash at different _places when things got difficult_ , where I might have left a few _assets, hardware and software_. Whatever they can get their hands on, it’s theirs. I trust them to put those into good use.

So who’s left? I know Pepper and Rhodey would be fine. Tony would have made sure of that. Bruce, too, wherever he is. I always thought he’s too kind of a man for this world, so, somehow I am grateful that he left so he can find his own happy place out there. Thor and I don’t really have much in common but I appreciate how he looked beyond my gender and my limitations as a mortal and that he accorded me with respect, without me having to demand for it. He has an entire kingdom as his home, but he would always be welcomed here. 

Then there’s Sam. Oh my dear, Sam. I used to wonder, what would have happened if Steve didn’t flirt with Sam that day at the National Mall. *wink wink* Much to my surprise, it didn’t take too long for me to trust Sam and I guess it says a lot about him, to what kind of a person he is. I know he has a family and home waiting for him in Harlem but I want him to know, he has a family in me too. I’m happy to know a man with great taste in music, and thankful to know that there would be someone else who’d follow Steve anywhere to save his ass now that I can’t. There’s an envelope in the safe in the master bedroom. I am entrusting its contents to him. He has the codes. He may not be aware that he knows it, but I think he has eyed me carefully and long enough, in and out of work, to know it. *wink* 

So this leaves me with the two people I want to have this place. 

From the moment I met Steve, I knew, he was looking for his place. I know the feeling, believing that I have no place in this world. So I want him to have this. I know Brooklyn is his home but I have been there, and I wouldn’t be surprised if nothing is familiar to him anymore. In case he feels out of place there or anywhere else, let him know he can grow his roots here. Especially when he finally decides to retire the frisbee. The thought of the uniform retiring from service may be a bit of a stretch for many, but not to me. He’s been no one else to me other than Steve and the Steve I know would always yearn for the same things he did 70 years ago. I know he thinks that he’s a changed man now, that the things he wants are not the same to those he wanted before the war. Lying is what I do so I know when someone is lying, even when that person is unconsciously lying to himself. Steve may not know it yet, but I know that he will circle back to that one thing he have always wanted. And I wish that time would soon come. 

The house has three bedrooms, he can convert one into a studio. It’s about time he picked up on his art. The other bedroom, the one with the view of the lake, I leave it to James. I know he'll enjoy the little skylight.

I don’t know what his mental state would be by the time this is read so I would just make it simple. James and I found each other a long time ago and even for a short while, we became each others’ home. A part of me regret for not telling Steve about this but my shared history with James is one of the few things I truly value in life, probably because it was the first thing I could claim _mine_. I won’t apologize if I was selfish with that. The last time I saw James, he was trying to tie a loose end of his past and saving the world along the way. I wanted to go with them but I admit, I got scared. I wasn’t ready to face him. Once James finally sorts out his memories and thinks he’s ready to face life again, he can start it here, with Steve. 

James and I didn’t talk or plan anything beyond the moments we spent together in secret because we didn’t want to tempt fate. Besides, we both thought that a life different to what we had couldn’t be anything else other than a fairy tale. I may no longer be around but I hope James would find the courage to brave this world as a free man. I’m sure, once he regained his memories he would dedicate his life atoning for the things he was forced to do, but I hope he would learn to forgive himself because there’s nothing I want for him other than to be free. 

Like I said, I don’t have much to leave behind. So I guess that’s it. If you’re not one of the people referenced in this letter then you’re probably some random person who accidentally stumbled into my property because my perimeter security sensors got busted somehow, which means, you’re trespassing. Now, I really want this letter to be found by the right people and obviously you’re not one of them. So, I’ll make it worth your time. I promise, you’ll get a very nice reward when you bring this letter to Happy Gym, two blocks down east of the NY Public Library and hand it to no one else but the man named, Happy. He’s most probably getting his ass kicked in the ring. Thank you.

Natalie Rushman 

P.S. There’s a black cat that got dibs on the rug in front of the fireplace. I named it Liho. It comes with the house.


	7. Nat's House

Steve didn’t get any substantial details when Pepper called him the other day. All she said was there was something he needed to see and that Happy would be picking him and Bucky up in three days time. And here he was, comfortably seated in the backseat of the car with Bucky equally comfortable beside him. Steve thought he could try, with caution, to get more details from Happy without the man knowing. But Happy was smart enough to know that Steve was tricking him into spilling some beans.

“Sorry, Cap, that won’t work on me,” Happy said with a chuckle. “Don’t worry, I don’t blame you for trying.”

Bucky couldn’t help but laugh at Steve’s poor attempt to covertly extract information. 

“I know, I know,” Steve said, laughing at his failure. “That’s why I usually left that part of the job to her.”

“Good plan,” Bucky said with a wide grin on his face then continued, “so, Happy, how did you meet her?” 

Steve saw Happy shoot them an awkward glance at the rear view mirror. It was quick but Steve was sure, Happy’s eyes mirror the same loss all of them had.

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” Steve immediately followed up. 

“It’s okay, Cap. Probably the reason why I don’t want to talk about it because, well, it’s a story that involves my ass getting kicked. If you know what I mean.”

Steve relaxed when Happy gave them a smile.

“Yeah, I heard she totally knocked you out,” Steve teased.

“Of course she told you,” Happy said, a bit embarrassed.

“Nope,” Steve said. “Tony did.” 

“Of course he did,” Happy said and rolled his eyes.

Steve and Happy chuckled as they remember their two friends. Steve didn’t know the exact dynamics Natasha had with Happy, but he knew Natasha liked the guy. She used the words, dependable, tenacious, and loyal, words Natasha used sparingly when describing other human beings. 

“I’ll give you this, though,” Happy continued. “This --- this is definitely about her.”

Steve smiled and looked outside the window as Happy drove them further upstate.

Two hours later, Happy parked the car and when Steve and Bucky stepped out, they saw a sprawling two-storey country house. It was a bit weather-beaten but nothing that can’t be undone with a few repairs. They both couldn’t help but smile as they admired the house. It had spacious lawns on all sides that led to dense treeline. The only access to the property was a huge gate to the north followed by a long dirt driveway that cut through the trees. It was secluded, quiet, and Bucky immediately felt safe.

Happy was about to tell them to go inside when someone shouted from inside the house.

“Nat, stop!”

Steve and Bucky froze, their hearts skipping a beat when they heard the name. Steve imagined a certain red-hair to emerge from the door but lost the wishful thinking when the youngest Barton pushed the door open and dashed out into the porch followed by Lila.

“Nat, stop! Wear your shoes, at least!” Lila shouted after her little brother. Finally she caught up with him and they both sat on the wooden floor as she struggled to shove a pair of shoes into Nat’s feet. Then Lila saw them.

“Uncle Steve!” Lila asked. She dropped the shoes and ran to give Steve a hug. 

Steve had not seen the Barton family since Tony’s funeral but Wanda did tell them about the _changes_ that happened to Steve.

Steve may be old but he still can manage an incoming hug from an overly excited teenager. Then he saw Cooper coming out of the door and the next thing Steve knew, Cooper was also running towards him. He opened his arms wider to squeeze the oldest Barton kid into the hug.

Laura was next to appear by the door. She had the warmest and biggest smile for him as she scooped Nat in her arms. Then came out Clint. 

Lila and Cooper released him and they all held their breath as they waited for Clint’s next move. Steve held his ground for a bit, unsure how to greet him. Only when Clint started walking down the porch and on the lawn towards him that Steve moved to meet him halfway. They didn’t say anything, they didn’t have to. They just hugged each other. And being the sap that he was, Clint was the first to cry.

Steve was really happy, he was waiting for this for quite a while. He knew how much the man was hurting and it pained Steve that he couldn’t do anything about it, that he had to wait by the sidelines until Clint was ready to grieve with him, with them. It was finally happening and Steve was grateful. For a moment, Steve totally didn’t care for the real reason Pepper wanted him there because this moment with Clint was more than enough reason to endure that two and a half hour drive.

Finally, Clint released him. Clint wiped his tears first before walking over to Bucky. Bucky didn’t know what to do, he didn’t really know Clint but he welcomed his hug nonetheless. To his surprise, Clint’s hug didn’t feel awkward or forced. As a matter of fact, it was something he didn’t realize he actually needed. 

Clint released Bucky and gave all of them a smile, a smile Steve knew didn’t graze the man’s face for quite some time. Clint spread his arms and said, “Welcome home.”

**********

Steve, Bucky, Clint, and Pepper were seated at the dining table, while Laura and Happy were at the yard, keeping the kids entertained as the ‘grown ups’ talk shop.

Steve was holding out Nat’s letter as Bucky peered by his side. He went through it twice before he paused and looked at Clint and Pepper, a thousand and one questions written all over his face. Not to mention his eyes were already red and brimming with tears. He shook his head in disbelief.

“It’s legit,” Clint said. 

“I know,” Steve cut him off. “It’s her handwriting, alright.”

Clint smiled. Then Bucky took the letter from Steve and silently read it again. The three patiently waited until Bucky was satisfied and folded the letter again. No one spoke for a while as they all stared at the letter on the table.

“She and her secrets, huh?” Clint tried to joke. “Never fail to keep us on our toes.”

“Even now,” Steve said with a bittersweet smile. Bucky and Clint felt a pinch of hurt of betrayal in Steve’s voice.

“She wanted to tell you, Cap, everything,” Clint said. “ It wasn’t because she didn’t trust you could handle it, it was herself that she doubted.”

“What do you mean?” Steve asked.

“Telling you about him,” Clint continued and pointed at Bucky, “meant confronting something she buried dead deep inside her. Shoveling it open meant a whole six feet of pain to deal with and you and I both can agree, there was more than enough issues for her to deal with all those years. So, I hope you’re not blaming her for anything.”

Steve shook his head and reached for the letter again. He didn’t open it. He just held it in his hands, twirling it, feeling the paper against his skin. Bucky wanted to ask Clint more about her but he didn’t think it was the right time for it so he kept his mouth shut. He just stood up and started to slowly wander around the dining area and into the adjacent open living room.

“What do you think?” Bucky asked and looked at Pepper. “Would Stark approve of her decision?”

Ever since Tony’s death, Bucky couldn’t help but feel bad that he didn’t have the chance to talk to Tony about his parents. He wanted to stand in front of the man and apologize. But similar to all the things he wished he could say to Natasha face to face, his apology for Tony ended up as a whisper just to be carried off by the wind.

“The property is in Natasha’s name. The legalities are tidy and in place that no one, not even I nor Tony could do anything about it,” Pepper explained.

“That’s you ,I>legally speaking, how about _personally_ speaking?”

Pepper paused for a moment then stood up to face Bucky. “I believe in my heart that in his last moments, when he realized and accepted what needed to be done, he made his peace with everything and everyone. And that includes you. So, yes, Tony would respect Natasha’s wishes for you. And so do I.”

Bucky finally couldn’t help but tear up as the boulder of guilt weighing down his back was finally lifted. He faced Pepper, his heart on his sleeve and said, ‘I’m sorry. I really am.” 

Pepper smiled and gently pulled him in for a hug. It was quick but Bucky didn’t mind because he knew it was more than what he deserved.

Steve couldn’t be any happier. Even in death, Natasha was looking after him, after them. He looked outside and the autumn foliage made him miss her even more. 

“So?” Clint asked as Pepper started laying down papers on the dining table. 

Steve didn’t say anything. He had come to admit that Brooklyn didn’t feel like home anymore and he had been feeling out of place again for the past months, not just geographically speaking. After coming back from Peggy and handing the shield to Sam, he was just staring at a fuzzy void, wondering what to do now. 

He looked around and then at Bucky. He was leaning by the doorway from the living room with a huge smile on his face.

“What do you think, Buck?”

Bucky walked to him, hands in his pockets, and looked at the scenery outside the window. 

Green and red leaves interweaving with each other. It was like Natasha’s green eyes and flaming red hair staring back at him. At that moment Bucky knew that autumn would be his favorite season from now on.

“Rummaging through all of our memories, I remember how much she loved me,” Bucky replied. “And that’s the thing, Steve, I don’t want to just _remember_ that, I want to _live_ it. I think this is the perfect place for that.”

Steve smiled and patted Bucky on the shoulder. He couldn’t help but be proud of Bucky who now seemed more open and ready to take his present and future in stride. Ever since Bucky got Natasha’s files from Clint, there was this spark that appeared in him and it was brighter and bigger now. And Steve realized, it was Natasha’s doing.

Steve turned around to face Pepper and said, “I guess we’re taking the house.”

Bucky and Clint laughed as Pepper walked over to Steve for a hug. Then she handed him a pen and led him back to the table with all the paperwork. 

“Even now, she still leaves all the paperwork to me,” Steve joked and signed the papers. 

“Alright,” Bucky cheered and hugged his best friend. Then he looked around and asked, “Wait, where’s the cat?”

“We’ve been asking the same since the first time we came over,” Pepper said. “But it never showed up. Must have ran away.”

“Nah,” Clint said, “I don’t think so. It’ll show up.”

Clint went to the back door and shouted, “Alright, kids! Time for Uncle Steve’s house tour!”

Steve smiled as the two older Barton kids come running inside the house and started to drag him upstairs. 

“Cooper, don’t drag him!” Laura shouted in worry.

“Yeah,” Bucky said, “he’s over a hundred years old you know.”

Everybody laughed. Steve was halfway up the stairs when he stopped and turned around. He looked at the youngest Barton by the foot of the stairs, holding his father’s hand. 

“Are you coming, Nat?” Steve asked the kid playfully.

Everyone fell silent, all feeling the same bittersweet pang in their hearts. Laura, Pepper, and Happy started to tear up and Steve had to muster all his strength to not crumble as her name escaped his lips. 

Little Nat was unsure what to do. Unlike his siblings, he still had an ocean of unfamiliarity to conquer with Steve. He looked up to his father for guidance. Clint released his hand and nodded at him with encouragement. But Nat didn’t budge. He just looked right back at Steve. 

Steve walked back down to him and sat on the steps to meet the kid at eye level.

“Hey, kid. Want to show me to my room?”

Little Nat bit his lower lip for a second and asked softly, “Wee-lee?”

Steve smiled and said, “Yeah. Like what she used to say to me, _‘it’ll be fun._ ” 

Little Nat finally relaxed and allowed Steve to hold his hand as they walked back up the stairs where Cooper and Lila were waiting. Clint turned to Bucky and smiled.

“I know you have a lot of questions and I’ll be here to answer them. But right now, up you go, old man!” Clint joked.

Bucky chuckled and shook Clint’s hand before following Steve and the kids.


	8. Then and Always

Liho, the cat, couldn’t have chosen the best time to finally appear. It was the day before Christmas and it was Steve who spotted it first. Steve was cleaning the fridge that morning, stashing out leftovers to make space for all the food Pepper and Laura will be bringing the next day. It has been a month and a half since they moved in and Pepper and Laura thought it would be nice that they all celebrate Steve and Bucky’s first Christmas in the house together. 

Steve was emptying containers of food at the sink when he glanced at the window and saw the cat perched on the back porch railing, peering back at him. It seemed relaxed but its yellow eyes were piercing that Steve had to take a moment to decide what to do next. As far as he knew, he wasn’t really a cat person so he’s a bit clueless how to approach the creature without spooking it away. He turned off the faucet and walked to the back door.

“Liho, right?” Steve greeted it with a smile. 

Neither of them flinched. Steve decided it was best to let Liho dictate what happens next. So he simply stood there with a smile on his face, thinking how perfect it was for Natasha to get attached to a cat. She and cats shared the same independence and love for solitude. Natasha also couldn’t care less for treats, rewards, praises; something cats don’t seem to enjoy as much as dogs.

Bucky entered the kitchen.

“Alright, the Christmas socks are finally hung and the sheets in the guest bedroom are finally replaced for Wilson’s benefit. Even though I don’t know why I even bothered,” Bucky said with a playful laugh. He stopped in his tracks at the sight of Steve frozen in place by the door.

“Hey, what’s ---,”

“Shhhh,” Steve shushed him up immediately without even bothering to look at him. 

Bucky followed where Steve’s gaze was fixed and his own eyes widened at the sight of Liho. He walked over to Steve and stood beside him as he, too stared at the cat. Its black fur wasn’t shiny but nothing that can’t be fixed with a good bath. What struck Bucky the most was its eyes. They were wide, golden, glassy, and hard to read. It reminded Bucky of Natasha. Natasha’s Red Room training taught her to hide deep and beyond, even from herself, so that not even her green eyes would betray her true emotions. Breaking through her defenses was a feat and even when you successfully manage it, it wasn’t because you’re good, it was because she let you in. And now, Liho was giving him the same vibe. It wouldn’t just let him and Steve housebreak it unless it wanted them to in the first place.

“It means bad luck, you know,” Bucky bluntly said.

Steve looked at Bucky questioningly. Bucky continues, “In Russian, Liho means bad luck.”

They both stared at the cat which now had stretched and lain on top of the railing but still warily looking at them. Steve then shook his head and said, “Well, not in this house.”

Bucky grinned at his friend. Then he opened the back door and stepped outside. Steve immediately looked back at the cat and was relieved to see that it didn’t move but its gaze was now fixed at his best friend. Bucky started taking small, cautious steps towards the cat, his flesh arm slightly stretched in front of him. Then with just a couple of feet away from it, he stopped and waited. Liho stretched its neck and its forehead made contact with Bucky’s flesh hand. After a few seconds, Bucky finally felt confident enough to scratch Liho’s head. He smiled when it happily responded to his touch. Then he picked Liho up and cradled it in his arms. It purred, yawned, and snuggled right there against his chest for a nap. 

“Better tell them to bring cat food, too,” Bucky said. Steve chuckled and held the door for Bucky and Liho.

***************

Sam arrived that afternoon, with three large pizzas and two dozen beers. He was hoping the three of them could bond first before the chaos of Christmas and of children the next day. He loved Morgan and the Barton kids but he wouldn’t miss the chance of having a one chill night, beer in hand, with his best friends. 

When he arrived and had settled in, Steve handed him Natasha’s letter. The way Natasha talked about him in it made Sam smile and teary-eyed. 

“Wait, what did she mean you have great taste in music? Did she get deaf or something?” Bucky joked.

“Hey, man. What can I say. The lady knows the good stuff,” Sam said proudly. “Tell him Steve.”

Steve only smiled and nodded. 

“Okay, so where’s this safe?” Sam asked.

Steve led him to his bedroom and opened a door on a wall, revealing a safe. Sam stared at it, lightly scratching his chin, confused. Bucky noticed it.

“Let me guess, you don’t know the codes,” Bucky asked. 

Sam didn’t respond. He read the letter again, slower this time, digesting every word of the part about how he knew the code because he’s been _eyeing_ Natasha long enough to know it. After reading it a third time, Sam folded the letter again and stared at the numerical keypad of the safe. 

Steve finally sat down at the foot of his bed and Bucky leaned on the wall beside the safe and watched Sam carefully.

“Staring and sizing me up won’t help, Barnes,” Sam said.

Bucky raised his arms in defense and crossed them across his chest. “She said you’ve _eyed_ her a lot,” Bucky said. “You’ve eyed her, like --- _A LOT_.”

Sam looked at Bucky cautiously. There was something territorial and warning in his tone. Half of Sam knew Bucky was just messing with him, but his other half couldn’t help but wonder that he might have crossed some line with Bucky, with Natasha being the love of his life.

“You know you can’t blame him, Buck,” Steve said. “Or anyone, really.”

Bucky smiled mischievously and Sam eased up a bit. Sam looked at the safe again and thought hard. Yes, he had watched Natasha a lot. There were times when it was necessary because they were training and she was teaching him a few combat tricks, and of course there were times when he just couldn’t help himself. Especially that time when their new uniforms arrived and Natasha tried hers for the first time. 

And right there, it hit Sam. His face finally lightened up, his eyes twinkled with mischief. He confidently reached out to the keypad and punched in six numbers. He paused for a moment, breathed in first, then pressed the ‘enter’ button. The safe’s screen lit green. 

“You really know me so well, don’t you, Nat?” Sam whispered with a smile.

Inside the safe were a couple of hand guns, extra mags, a handful of cash, and the white envelope referred to in the letter. Sam picked it up and opened it. Inside was a sheet of paper with a list of names with corresponding code names, contact numbers, and P.O. Box addresses. Towards the bottom of the list were usernames, email and URL addresses and passcodes. Sam looked at the list with confusion.

“It’s her web, her network,” Bucky said. “Those probably are her contacts all over the world.”

“Okay,” Sam said, still perplexed. “But why give it to me? Why not to Fury or Hill?”

Bucky shrugged his shoulders and peered into the list. He couldn’t help but be impressed with how extensive Natasha’s network was. 

“Maybe because you’re not a spy,” Steve said.

“Exactly,” Sam said. “Not that this wouldn’t be useful but why entrust their identities to me?”

“Since you’re not a spy, she assumed you’d never treat them as mere sources,” Steve surmised. “You’re a people’s person, Sam. You know compassion, empathy, and should you ask any of those in the list for help, Natasha’s sure, you’d never compromise their welfare by milking them for information.”

“And Fury would?” Bucky asked. 

It was Steve’s turn to shrug his shoulder. 

Sam stared at the names in his hand, whose lives were now in his hands. Bucky saw his hesitance, his fear. He simply clapped Sam on the shoulder and readied a smile.

“Natasha knew they’d be safe in your hands. And she’s right,” Bucky said proudly. “You’d never trade these lives for anything else.”

“But why not leave it to Steve?”

“She knew I’d rather handle a landmine than a network of informants. I’m too transparent to delve into espionage, Sam,” Steve said followed by a laugh. “Besides, you may be man of uniform like me, but like her, you grew up in this era, and you’re far better bred to handle the gray of this world.”

Sam smiled, bitter-sweetly. Natasha left him a huge responsibility, but instead of feeling burdened by it, he felt proud because it was a testament to how much trust she had in him. He folded the list and put it back in the safe. He removed the handguns first before shutting the safe close again. He saw the huge question mark in Bucky’s face.

“I’ll keep it here until I find a better spot to hide it in or find an effective way how I can keep and access it at the same without compromising security,” Sam explained. “You stash the guns in strategic spots around the house.”

Steve agreed and gave Sam a big hug, as if telling him that it was a well deserved gift. Sam smiled back. They were headed out of the door when Bucky blurted out, “So wait, what’s the code then?”

Sam turned back to him with a naughty smile and said, “To be honest, I think you and Steve know it too. So, how about, I’ll let you figure it out yourself.”

Steve laughed out loud and said, “You’re right, Sam. I think I do. Would you mind if I check right now?”

“It’s your safe,” Sam said with a smile.

Before Bucky could say anything else, Steve approached the safe and punched in the codes. Bucky tried to take a peek but Sam stood between them. Steve’s first try was wrong. But then he changed the last two digits and the safe opened to him. 

“What?!” Bucky exclaimed.

Steve laughed. He closed the safe again and headed for the door. Bucky turned to Sam, pleading that he at least give him a clue.

“I promise, dude, deep down you know the codes too,” Sam teased and followed Steve downstairs.

Bucky looked at the safe one last time, scratching his head. But his eyes were on fire and his face was set with determination that he would figure it out.

***********

That night, the three of them sat in the front porch and finished all three large pizza boxes. Liho came out on the porch to join them. It lurked around them for a while, even sat on the floor in front of Sam and stared at him for a long time, sizing him up. Then finally, as if it lost interest in the Sam, or convinced that he wasn’t trouble, it hopped and perched itself comfortably on Bucky’s lap.

“I guess this means she likes me best,” Bucky said with pride.

The moon was already out, its reflection glistening on the surface of the lake. They have spent the last three hours laughing, joking, and teasing each other. Sam promised himself that he wouldn’t bring up anything work-related, no matter how much he wanted to rant. But Steve, being the perceptive person that he was, felt it, so he at one point steered their conversation towards that topic for Sam’s benefit. 

“You know, you can still come and work, right?” Sam said to Steve.

“I’m done, Sam,” Steve said with a smile. “Besides, there’s already a memorial with my name engraved on it. It’d be a shame to render it useless.”

“Yeah, he’s done, Wilson. What are you trying to do?” Bucky asked rhetorically. 

Sam laughed and pointed at Bucky. “Well, you better watch out, Barnes. I think Fury’s cooking something for you.”

“Well, good thing we moved, right? He wouldn’t know where to knock because he doesn’t know where my door is,” Bucky said with a laugh.

“But seriously, though. Don’t you want to go back out there?” Sam asked with seriousness in his voice.

Bucky looked at his half-empty beer bottle. He sighed and said, “I’m not sure.”

Steve gave Bucky a comforting tap on the shoulder and said, “You’ll figure it out. I promise. Take your time.”

“Yeah, like how you’ll figure out the safe code,” Sam teased. 

Steve laughed. Then Bucky continued, “There’s another thing that’s been bothering me, though.”

Steve and Sam turned serious and waited patiently for Bucky to gather his thoughts. 

“In her letter, she specifically said she wanted me to have the bedroom with the view of the lake. Why? I mean, she didn’t necessarily say that Steve should have the master suite but why very specific with me?”

“Hmmm, you’re right, that is interesting,” Sam said. “She was very specific with what she wanted us to have. Me the list, Steve, his art studio, and you, that room.”

They all fell silent for a long time. Steve, too, was deciphering things internally. It didn’t seem peculiar to him at first but Sam’s argument made sense. Plus the fact that Bucky was not just any other man in Natasha’s life. Steve looked at Bucky with a smile.

“Like I said, Buck, you’ll figure it out. We can help you ---,”

“Nah. I think this one’s on me,” Bucky said with a smile. “Like Sam said, the safe was his to crack, this one is mine.”

Steve nodded in understanding. Bucky raised his beer and dedicated a toast for her, “For she is the fire in all of us, that not even death would dare to touch.”

**********

It was past one in the morning when they all finally decided to go to bed. Steve maybe over a hundred years old but he didn’t back down. His alcohol tolerance was still way beyond normal. Bucky went straight to his room and plopped himself on the bed. He didn’t notice but Liho had followed him and it went straight to the window where it sat on the sill, staring down at him on the bed. Bucky stared back but his attention drifted from the cat to the moon, which is now fully visible from his window. He stood up and joined Liho. He scratched its head and it returned a purr.

Why this room, Natalia? Bucky asked, silently.

No answer came. All he got was the moon staring back at him and this brought him back, all the way back to those times when he and Natasha secretly met. Those might have been stolen nights but everything they did together and whispered to each other were theirs and theirs alone. He recalled how they stared at the moon together and let it bathe them in its melancholic glow. 

Bucky started to tear up. And to distract himself from crying, he sat up and looked around the room. He needed to figure out why this room. It was ordinary. He knelt on the floor and felt the floorboards, lightly pressing here and there to see if any segment would come loose. Nothing. He went to the walls next. He traced his hands on them, feeling for a hidden door or something. Again nothing. All he got was Sam’s soft snores from the other side. He went for the ceiling next. Nothing.

Exhausted and frustrated, Bucky went back to the window and stared outside. Liho surprised him when it hopped on his shoulder and settled there like it was a tree branch. Bucky chuckled and let the feline have its way. For the past month he’d been sleeping in that room, he haven’t really took the time to appreciate the view of the lake from the window. It just started snowing so the lake wasn’t frozen yet. Bucky relaxed a bit and enjoyed the view, which Natasha seemed to be so keen for him to have.

He didn’t know how long he was staring at the lake when something caught his attention. He didn’t notice before because the moon wasn’t in the right position yet for its light to bounce off it. But now, it was clear and shining. The shape was very subtle but it was there --- a star. It was carved on the trunk of the tree by the lake shore, directly outside of Bucky’s window and at the same height as Bucky’s room. It was shining because it seemed like the carving was filled with gold. 

Bucky hurried downstairs. His training helped him dash out of the house without raising a racket. He didn’t want to wake Steve and Sam, not until he found out what was waiting for him outside. With Liho at his heels and the snow crunching beneath his every step, he jogged towards the tree and looked up. The golden star carving wasn’t visible from where he was standing now but he was sure it was the tree. He touched its ragged trunk as if trying to feel anything from its core. Then he circled it. He looked up and thought if he should climb. But there was nothing extraordinary with its canopy above so he directed his eyes below. The tree is tall and old, some of its roots were jutting out from the snow. If it wasn’t for his perfect eyesight, Bucky would have missed it --- another star carved way down the trunk, almost hidden behind the roots and snow. This one was just an outline. No gold filling. In the spring and summer, it would be hidden by grass. 

Not really bothered by the cold, Bucky knelt down and touched the carving. He expected some sort of hidden compartment but there was none. So his instinct told him he must dig. Right there and then, Bucky started digging with his metal hand. First the snow then the soil itself. Then twelve inches down, his fist made contact with something and he heard a ‘clang’. 

Minutes later, he was pulling out a silver metal box, the size of a big shoe box. It was plain except for a red star on top and a fingerprint scanner. Without anymore hesitation, Bucky placed his right thumb on it and waited for the lock to click and the lid was released from its latch. Bucky fully opened the box, almost tearing the lid off, and what he found inside made him weak in his knees. He dropped the box in the snow and scooped out a couple of worn-out journals. _His journals._

He flipped through the pages and recognized his own handwriting, the bits and pieces of memories he jotted down since escaping Washington DC to Bucharest. He remembered how he followed and held onto those memories like bread crumbs, hoping it would lead him back to himself. He thought he lost those journals when they took him into custody. Natasha must have nicked them before disappearing in 2016.

There was a third journal in the box and Bucky remembered it was the newest of the three, having only written on its first twelve pages or so. He picked it out of the box but then stopped. Something else was at the bottom of the box. It was another journal. It wasn’t his but it contained ,I>him. 

Bucky froze. He looked undecided and scared as the familiar red journal with a black star on its cover waited for him to make a move. Bucky dropped the three journals in the snow and peered into the box. He didn’t dare touch its last content. The night was so quiet that he could hear his own palpitations. 

Finally, Bucky mustered the strength to pick it up. But he just held it for a while, staring at it. Then finally, he opened it and a sticky note with Natasha’s handwriting greeted him. 

_Forgive the past._  
The future is yours, moy mily.  
You have my love, then and always. 

_\- Natalia_

Bucky’s vision started to blur with tears as he gently caressed Natasha’s name on the paper with his fingers. He sobbed, almost soaking Natasha’s note with his own tears. Then he heard the front door creaked open. He looked up and saw Steve standing there. He wanted to move, to stand or at least tell Steve he was fine, but he couldn’t bring himself to. His shoulders were shaking, his hands were shaking, and his heart was breaking. It was so painful, even more painful compared to the physical pain when he tore his arm trying to break his fall. 

Steve saw Bucky crying but held his ground for a while. He thought that whatever Bucky found could be something between him and Natasha or between Bucky and himself. So Steve felt that he shouldn’t intrude. Only when he saw Bucky wiping his tears and finally taking in a big breath to compose himself that Steve left the porch and walked into the snow.

Steve reached Bucky and sat himself on one of the protruding roots. He didn’t say anything. He just held Bucky’s shoulder and let his best friend silently cry by his knees. Steve saw the journals and pieced everything together. He picked up the red book and saw Natasha’s note inside. Steve took a deep breath.

“You’ve never really asked me why I chose to stay in the other timeline,” Steve said.

Bucky looked at Steve not knowing what to say. He almost said that it didn’t matter but he couldn’t lie to Steve and to himself anymore. Of course it mattered to him, he just didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. Steve looked back at him with a sad smile.

“It was because I wanted to fulfill the last thing Natasha asked me to do, to get a life. So I did,” Steve continued. “I always knew I would come back because I had every intention of keeping my promise to you.”

Bucky smiled. 

“So I hope you can forgive me for leaving you for a while.”

Bucky nodded and gave Steve a reassuring pat on the knee. 

Steve smiled with relief and said, “And now, it’s your turn to get a life, Buck.”

“I know,” Bucky said. “I just wish she’s here.”

“She is,” Steve said with a smile and looked back at the note with a smile on his face. “Then and always.”

Bucky smiled and nodded. He released a huge sigh of relief and further eased up when he felt Steve’s comforting and encouraging tap on his shoulder. He put all the journals back in the box and shut it close. He would deal with them later. Then he sat on the box and looked far away. Everything was still quiet and despite the brightness of the moon, he could see the sky littered with thousand of stars. 

_Then and always, Natalia_ , Bucky silently whispered to the moon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *A/N: Thank you so much for reading. I started writing these chapters as my own way of coping after the events of Endgame. I strongly feel that Natasha wasn’t properly grieved for by the people around her. So this is me grieving for her. But right now, I honestly don’t know how I’m going to end this story. Haha! Maybe because a part of me doesn’t want it to end. I have plot ideas but I’m still figuring out the logic of it all. I can follow the whole ‘Natasha clone’ plotline in the comic books but I’ll figure it out first. So I’m not going to end this story, not officially, ‘cause who knows, an idea might hit me sooner or later. Thanks again!!!


End file.
